


Let's Fall Off The Deep End

by dancingsynapses



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Boss Bitch Beth, Burlesque, Canon-Typical Violence, Escort Service, F/M, Fucking, Protective Rio (Good Girls), Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Soft Rio (Good Girls), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23719801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingsynapses/pseuds/dancingsynapses
Summary: Elizabeth is on a scholarship at Detroit's finest art institute but she can hardly make ends meet. So she dances at a burlesque club where she meets Rio.
Relationships: Beth Boland & Ruby Hill, Beth Boland/Annie Marks, Beth Boland/Rio, Beth Boland/Ruby Hill/Annie Marks
Comments: 200
Kudos: 457





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this crazy idea one night and I thought it'd be fun to put Rio and Beth together in an AU where Beth is a darn good singer (and an ok dancer). She ends up working at a burlesque club he owns because she needs the money. I've always wanted to write about how Beth rises from a place of poverty and transforms into a Boss Bitch because she knows she doesn't want to be stuck in place where she doesn't get to make her own decisions. And who better to teach her than our own crime king?

Beth sighs audibly into the empty living room as she looks at the small stack of cash on the table. Even after counting and recounting it, the numbers remain the same. The act of running the notes through her hands does give her something to do though, as she thinks about whether the money should go to her school fees, rental for the apartment or the groceries she should have bought last week.

Placing the notes down on the table after she’s done her final count, she throws her head back in frustration and a quiet groan escapes her lips.

“Has the money magically multiplied yet?” 

She feels the seat beside her dip from the weight of her sister and she steels herself. If there’s only one thing left in this world she’s able to do, that’s to keep both her and her sister alive, no matter how many extra shifts she’s gonna have to pull at that gas station. She hears a small whish and then a slap on the table as Annie produces a smaller but equally impressive stack of cash next to hers. She raises her eyebrows in question, disapproval written all over her face.

“Where did you get that?” 

Annie just shrugs as she leans back into the sofa, kicking her feet onto the coffee table.

“Annie, what did you do?”

She questions a little more firmly as she sits up to look at her sister. God, when did she get so big so quick? Her memories flash to the last time they were home with their mother, Annie had just started high school and now, she was in her final year.

“I made a delivery for Nixon.” She tries to play it off, pulling out her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, then swiping through Instagram absentmindedly.

“Nixon as in drug-dealer Nixon?” Beth’s eyes widen as she exclaims.

“What were you thinking!” She rises to her feet in exasperation as she starts pacing the living room of their small apartment, huffing every time she reaches the edge and has to turn around. 

“Uhhh, first of all, he sells weed, not drugs. And second, I earned most of the money because I got him Jessica Miller’s number.” She smirks cockily, then puts down her phone on the table to flip through the cash.

“Still! Annie. Don’t do it ever again. I’ll get the money. You just make sure you graduate high school.” Beth rolls her eyes, but it feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. With Annie’s addition, they’ll be able to pay rent and stock up on some groceries to keep them going for the rest of the month. Her school fees...she’ll find another way.

“Yeah yeah, until he wants another girl’s number…” She smiles cheekily, then turns to the kitchen and pours herself a hefty portion of cereal. Beth checks her watch, she’s almost late for class. And she can’t be late for this one - the dance instructor already hates her enough. Quickly, she puts the money into her handbag, says a quick goodbye to Annie and rushes out of the house.

Elizabeth’s never been comfortable in Arts School. Yes, she’s got a good voice and deep down, she knows she enjoys it when she’s under the spotlight, but there’s just something about being around all the  _ superstars _ here in the Detroit Performing Arts Institute that makes her feel like she’s...not enough. If it wasn’t for Ruby and that one audition that led her to a scholarship that almost paid for all her school fees, she would never have dreamt of pursuing a Bachelor’s degree here. Plus, she’d starter late, which makes her a few years older than most of her classmates, and even though not many of them know about that...it just makes her feel like she’s too old to deal with school drama.

Plus, this semester has just been the worst. Not only does she have to take a dance module which forces her to step out of her comfort zone, she’s also been assigned the most snobby and judgemental dance instructor in the entire institute who’s already taken to picking on Beth because she’s apparently too  _ well endowed _ to perform any of the ballet routines they’ve been expected to perfect. 

Entering the studio, she picks a discreet corner, shrugs off her bag and takes off her jacket, feeling self conscious as she checks out the outfits of the rest of her classmates. The school fees here are  _ exorbitant  _ and most of the students come from well to do families, so she’s no stranger to the various Lululemon sports bras and tights that are gracing the dance floor. She’s wearing a ratty old t-shirt that’s cut into a cropped top and a pair of plain black tights that Annie had made sure isn’t sheer even when she bends over. Stepping onto the dance floor, she starts her warmups, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Alright losers, let’s see how bad you guys are doing this week.” Natalie Bailey steps into the studio, decked in nothing but a bra and a pair of tights, clapping her hands as she rounds up all the students. Beth sucks in a deep breath as she braces herself for three hours of hell. 

They run through a few of the warmup routines and Beth feels the stretch in her thighs and arms that she actually welcomes. She isn’t the best at coordination, but she knows she’s strong and seeing her body pull off these complex dance routines is testament to that. It makes her feel good and in control of her body.

“Feeling pleased with ourselves, aren’t we?” Her thoughts are interrupted by the sticky sweet voice of Natalie and she suddenly feels all eyes on her. The music has slowed to a stop and Beth can feel the sweat dripping from the sides of her neck.

“You’re strong, and you’re determined, I’d give you that. But you’re never going to make it to the top of my class, or the showbiz. Some of us...just aren’t built to be ballerinas.” She says, gesturing to Beth’s chest as she eyes her up and down.

“And some of you, should be content swaying in the background.” Natalie turns to address the class in general, her blonde ponytail swishing as she does a perfect pirouette. 

“Oh, and  _ Beth _ , you should try eating less. It’ll make all the dancing less taxing on your knees. I also heard that the boobs always go first.” She smirks, before busying herself with putting up the next routine on the sound system. Beth feels her cheeks burn as she looks down at the floor, unwilling to meet the depreciating glares of her classmates. Natalie is a bitch to everyone in class. Last week, she had told Holly that the only way she could perfect that split they’d been working on was to surgically correct the position of her feet, and that had ended up with the poor girl bursting into tears. But it didn’t make all the criticism and harsh remarks easier to bear.

Tugging on the ends of her top, she readies herself for the next routine and tries to will away the sting of tears in her eyes. She can do this. It’s just one module. She just needs to get through this and she’ll be able to graduate with a degree, get a job, give Annie a better life. She’s not like the others here in the room. She doesn’t want to be a superstar, she doesn’t even dream of being on a stage and adorned with applause. But this is the only school she can afford, her voice paving a path for her that she’d thought was closed off forever.

The class comes to an uneventful end and she sighs a breath of relief, walking to her bag to clean off the sweat and pull on a sweater.

  
“Elaine really quit school huh. She didn’t show up yesterday and today.” Elizabeth hears her classmates whispering from their corner, sipping green juice from their bottles.

“She never really could afford to be here, I guess she finally ran out of money.”

“I heard she found a job that pays well.”

“Yeah, if you could call dancing at a burlesque club a job...then I guess she’s really living the high life now.”

The two girls laugh and continue to mock their classmate as Beth makes a mental note to check in on Elaine. She doesn’t have many friends in school, but Elaine has always been one of the nice ones. They’ve had a few classes together and although they aren’t close, she knows that Elaine’s one of those dream chasers who’s always wanted to end up on Broadway or at least as a backup dancer for Beyonce. So quitting school? That was really uncharacteristic of her.

Pulling out her phone, she shoots Elaine a quick text while walking herself to the next class. It’s music history - something boring, but that also means there’s no room for drama there, so she’ll consider it one of her favourite classes. 

-

_ Let’s have lunch. How about that cafe near Marshall street?  _

She’s just walking into the cafe when she spots Elaine waving to her excitedly. She looks good, Beth thinks to herself. Definitely much happier than someone who had supposedly quit her dream school because she couldn’t afford it.

Settling down in the chair, Beth orders a coffee and the cheapest item on the menu. She doesn’t usually do this. Eat out. It costs way more than what she can spare right now and she thinks about the bills sitting heavily in her bag.

“So...are you coming back to school?” Beth asks while sipping on her coffee, the hot liquid almost burning her tongue, but the familiar taste of caffeine sends a pleasant buzz running through her body.

Elaine quirks a brow at her. “Who said I left?” 

“Well, you didn’t show up for class today...and the girls were saying you didn’t turn up for your classes yesterday too.” Beth answers while shifting a few pieces of food around her plate.

Elaine rolls her eyes at the thought of her classmates gossiping about her.

“I’m just taking a break. I applied for a leave of absence so I could work at this new place. Get some money, pay for school fees and get back on track to becoming the best dancer in the whole of Detroit.” A musical laughter rings out as her hair bounces against her shoulders. She really does seem much happier, Beth thinks. Maybe that’s what having a good income does to a person.

Elizabeth thinks about Annie, about the money they’d needed to split amongst groceries, rent and school. Thinks about how her little sister had helped a  _ weed guy _ deliver his product in order to earn spare cash. Suddenly, it feels like all the pressures of reality are suffocating her, clawing at her throat.

She takes another sip of her coffee, but ends up sputtering, her throat closing up from the thought of having to scrape enough cash for the next month after she’s handed off the ones in her bag.

“You ok?” Elaine eyes her questioningly and Elizabeth flushes, embarrassment bursting from her cheeks and staining her face.

“Yeah...I’m fine. It must be nice to have a job that pays well.” 

Usually, Beth wouldn’t bring up the topic of money with anyone else. Her situation is a secret she tries to keep wrapped under layers of thrifted, but decent quality clothing and a head of well maintained hair. But Elaine understands. Knows how it feels like to not belong in a school where people throw away a full day’s worth of food money for a cup of overpriced latte. She knows how it feels like to calculate the cost of a class and debating if it’s even worth it to continue studying when the weight of rent and school fees looms overhead, pressing in closer as each month comes to an end.

  
  


Elaine considers her for a moment, before taking a deep breath and then speaking.

“You could do it too.”

Beth looks at Elaine questioningly.

“It’s a burlesque club. I dance there. I mean it’s not ideal, but I get to practice and it helps pay the rent. And if I do this for a while longer, I’ll be able to save enough for school.”

A silence hangs in the air, Beth feels her mouth opening and closing, but no words are coming out. Elaine speaks again, but softer this time.

“It’s not like full on nudity you know. It’s just provocative dancing. Hell, I’ve seen Natalie wear less than some of the girls on the show. Plus, you don’t have to sleep with anyone...unless you want to anyway…” Elaine blushes at that and her eyes drift towards the table, a little hazy. Beth wonders if she’s done it already. Slept with someone who’s paying her handsomely, maybe even someone she’s attracted to.

  
“I’m...I’m not very good at dancing...you know that. Plus, I still have to go to school. I’m on scholarship so I can’t just take a leave of absence like you did.” Beth plays with her fingers absentmindedly as she answers, her thoughts drifting to the various costumes she’d seen in a burlesque video once. 

“Nobody’s asking you to leave. I’m taking a break because I’m so tired after all my shifts. You can always dance less, maybe balance it out. Also, I’ve seen you move. You might not be the best in class, but you’ve got moves. So why not earn some money while you’re schooling. It’d take a load off your shoulders.” Elaine shrugs as she fishes a card out from her handbag and pushes it towards Beth.

_ The Deep End - Burlesque Club & Lounge _

The card is black, the font is classy and elegant, slightly retro with a shimmering gold finish on it. Touching it, she finds that it’s weighty and thick - it leaves a good impression already, pushing the thoughts of dingy, dark and cheap burlesque clubs out of her mind. Instead, she’s conjuring up images of a plush lounge, fitted with expensive ottomans and velvet sofas, red and gold drapes framing a large stage.

“Hello...Earth to Beth!” Elaine teases her dramatically as she finishes up on her plate of food. Beth swallows, then considers returning the card for a brief moment, but ends up slipping it into her pocket.

“Just think about it...I know we’re not like the others, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make life a little easier for ourselves.” Elaine waves a waitress over and pays for both their meals and includes a hefty tip, crisp bills handed over almost thoughtlessly.

Beth thinks about the little stack of notes in her bag again, and how she’d give anything to be able to order what she wants from a menu without having to consider the price, how she’d love to tip service staff what they deserve instead of always giving the bare minimum. She nods at Elaine and thanks her for the meal, promising to return the favour next time as they part ways.

The walk home is filled with internal debates about right and wrong, about dancing in front of an audience in lingerie that’ll make herself blush. She hands over the rent to her landlord on the way up to her apartment and it’s funny how her shoulders feel even heavier even though her bag is lighter.

Opening the apartment door, she sees Annie eating cereal again and frowns. She wants to nag at her about eating something with more nutrition when she realises that there’s nothing much in their fridge, and that Annie is eating cereal  _ dry. _ They’ve run out of milk too. Setting her elbows on the counter, she digs the heels of her palms into her eyes and sighs.

How long more can they go on like this? It’s with this realization that she calls Ruby over for a girls night and settles the two most important women in her life on the couch, ready to make a big decision moving forward.

“Ok...so I’m going to try for this new...job.” Beth explains as both Ruby and Annie open a packet of chips and fight over the first piece.

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, then continues.

“It’s at a burlesque club…”

When she opens her eyes again, Ruby and Annie are both staring at her, eyes as wide as saucers. 

“Wait a minute. You mean a burlesque club, like where the girls wear nothing and dance on stage for a group of men?” Ruby asks in disbelief.

“It’s not like that...my classmate, Elaine, she says they don’t strip completely, and that it pays well. And we could  _ really _ use the money.” Beth answers as she motions to the state of their apartment.

“Well, I’m all for it. You’re already dancing in school anyway, might as well dance somewhere that pays.” Annie retorts, popping a chip in her mouth and crunching noisily. Ruby smacks her and lets her mouth hang open, thinking of what to say next.

“Elaine’s set up an audition for me tomorrow evening, before the club opens. And...I need help because I have no idea what to wear or what to dance to.” Beth plops herself on the sofa, in between both her girls and lays her head on Ruby’s shoulder.

“Well, that’s why you have us.” Ruby holds Beth’s hands in her own.

-

They’ve been at this for hours, the laptop open with a dozen different tabs, referencing all the famous burlesque dancers and their routines. Beth lets out a frustrated sigh when Annie suggests she put on a bedazzled bodysuit. Throwing her hands into the air, she leans back into the sofa in defeat.

“We’re never going to find something that’ll make me feel comfortable and still looks sexy. Me and sexy don’t go together.” She groans.

“Well, you’ve got tits. That’s already one winning point.” Annie contributes, while giving Ruby a high five. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby spots the red polka dotted dress that Beth loves so much she hangs in the living room, by the window. She can’t bear to hang it in her cupboard in case it gets creased, so here it sits, like a ghostly matron watching over the three of them. She’d only worn it one time, on a date with Dean Boland, a senior in high school. And even though they split up when he left for college and Elizabeth stayed to work and put Annie through high school, Beth still loves that dress. 

“Y’know, you always adored polka dots...and you do have Marilyn Monroe’s blonde hair...why don’t we do something...retro?” Beth’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she nods in agreement. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

-

Pulling into the parking lot of the club, Beth checks herself into the mirror one last time, trying to work up the nerve to exit her car. The girls did a wonderful job putting her together, her hair coiffed perfectly, curls framing her face and a red polka dot bandana tied on top. Her eyeliner is thicker than what she’s used to wearing and she’s piled on so much mascara she feels like she can barely see anything beyond her long and thick lashes. Her lips are painted blood red and there’s a tinge of rouge on her face that makes her look like she’s permanently blushing. 

She’s wearing a thick black coat right now, but the denim cropped top tied under her bust burns against her skin. They’ve gone for the whole “Rosie the Riveter” get up, almost mimicking the poster exactly, except with the push up bra Beth’s wearing, it’s almost impossible to get the top four buttons of her blouse done up right. 

She’s nervous. Not only is this something she would never usually do, her life and Annie’s life banks on it. She’s taking a huge step out of her comfort zone by auditioning and she thinks that the failure to land this job would crush her. Beth grips the steering wheel tightly to stop her hands from shaking. Taking in deep breaths, she’s about to mutter some sort of cheesy encouragement to herself, when she hears rapping on her window.

It’s a guy, dressed in all black and his gold rings almost blind her despite how dark it is outside. She hopes she’s not in trouble. Beth thinks he might be a bouncer for the club, but he’s a little too lanky to pass off as one, but still, she rolls down the window.

“You ok? You look a little lost, darlin” The man drawls out in a voice that’s low and gravelly and without the distortion of the slightly tinted windows, she registers how good looking he is. 

He clears his throat and Elizabeth realizes that she’s blatantly staring at him and her cheeks pinken. 

“Um, no, no. I’m ok. I was just heading into the club.” With her answer, he quirks his brow, intrigued.

“I’m auditioning…” She adds to her answer even though he didn’t ask. Her blush deepens further when she realizes what he must think of her, looking for a job as a dancer.

“Is that right? Well, good luck then.” He raps his knuckles on the roof of the car, before walking towards the direction of the club, leaving Beth alone in her car again. Turning off the engine, she takes one last look at herself in the tiny mirror and then follows the direction he’d headed to.

-

The club is nothing and yet everything she had imagined. It’s still early in the evening, so it’s empty, but the lounge is impeccably decorated, dripping with taste and luxury. The main floor is packed with tables and gold framed chairs matched with deep maroon upholstery. It’s surrounded by a ring of booth seats that are partially hidden beneath curtains of pearl beads. She has to stop herself from thinking about what happens behind the privacy of those curtains before she pinks even further. 

The bar is huge, rows and rows of alcohol filling the tall shelves behind. The counter itself is a dark rich wood. Mahogany she would guess, but she isn’t an expert in that area, but she knows it’s expensive, much like everything else in this room.

What really gets her attention though, is the stage. It’s not huge, but it’s the perfect size for this room. The floors are polished, there’s professional lighting set up and what she registers as a very very pricey sound system. She wonders what her voice would sound like here, bouncing off the rounded edges of the club. The acoustics must be heavenly. 

  
She shakes her head to remind herself that she’s here to dance, not to sing. And her audience will be more interested in what she’s wearing than what her voice sounds like. 

“Are you enjoying the tour?” She spins around and sees a middle aged man walking through the main hall towards her. He’s handsome, and his hair is a dusty shade of light brown that makes her think of golden retrievers. 

“You must be Beth. Elaine mentioned you’d be dropping by for an audition.” Elizabeth nods at what he’s saying, before returning his outstretched hand with a shake of her own. His hands are warm and he’s nothing but professional. Well, so far, this entire experience has exceeded her expectations. 

“I’m Ethan. I manage this space. When you’re ready, you can pass your music to our techs at the back. We usually do live music, so once we get your routines sorted out, we can start working with the band on that. So for now, let’s see what you’ve got.” He winks at her, before settling into one of the seats at the table. She wonders what Elaine has told him, since he seems pretty confident that she’ll be joining them as a dancer. 

The stage curtains are closed now, and she can feel her heart thrumming in her ears. She’s taken off her coat and she’s not sure if it’s her nerves or the fact that her shorts are so short she could pass them off as underwear, but she can’t stop shivering. The entrance music to “The Lady Is a Tramp” starts playing and she knows that the curtains will lift soon, so she sucks in one last breath and closes her eyes.

-

He wasn’t going to stay. In fact he’s just about to drive off when he sees her in the parking lot. A blonde chick with a ridiculous polka dotted headband sitting in her car, outside his club, looking like a lost little lamb. So he walks over, rapping on her windows like some sort of security guard and asks if she needs help. Then, she surprises him by saying she’s auditioning. And he can’t imagine someone like her dancing in a club like his. 

So he stays. He’s also pretty curious about what she’s got underneath that big black coat of hers, wonders if she’s really gonna go for that whole pin-up girl look she’s got on her face. 

Slipping in next to Ethan, he clocks in the look of surprise on his face.

“Heard you got a new girl auditioning?” Rio places his elbows on the table and nests his chin in his hands. 

“Yeah. It’s a girl from that arts school in town. She came recommended, and if she’s as good as her friend says she is, we’ll probably add her to the group.” Ethan answers, a little perplexed as to why his boss would be sitting in for a routine audition when he usually doesn’t seem to care.

“Thought you didn’t give a shit 'bout these things?’ Rio clocks the confusion in Ethan’s tone, but doesn’t bother to answer as the lights dim and music begins to play. It’s an old tune, something completely different from the upbeat, bass heavy routines most of the girls in here usually dance to. The corners of his lips almost turn up into a smile...guess she’s really going all the way with that pin-up theme. 

The curtains lift and he sees her feet first. Her heels are high, but not ridiculously so, and she’s chosen a pair of classy red peep toes that matches her creamy white skin perfectly. When the drapes get higher, all he sees are miles of alabaster skin. She almost glows under the perfect lighting of the stage. 

_ She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight _

As more of her is revealed, the more Rio is certain that this woman was made to live in the era she’s dressed in. Her cherry red lips, the curve of her breast held in a black lace bra that’s peeking through her denim shirt, the way she’s wearing so little, but still looks as if she’s hiding a world of secrets.

_ I never bother, with people that I hate _

He can clock the exact moment she notices him in the audience. Her big blue eyes widen a little further and she almost stutters in the middle of her routine, but then he smirks at her and he sees her harden her resolve, locking her eyes with his as she continues to gyrate with the music, fingers trailing across her thighs and teasing at the knot at her waist. 

_ That's why this chick is a tramp _

He’s captivated by her. By the way she moves. It’s erotic for sure, he’d give her that, but it’s also fucking classy and it’s nothing he’s ever seen before. He clocks the strength she carries with her when she performs some moves that he thinks is physically impossible. It’s crazy, he thinks, as he feels himself lean forward in his seat, her drawing him in towards the stage.

_ Life without care, oh I'm so broke, it's old _

Her eyes never leave his, as she goes through her dance routine, she can see the look on his face and the darkness in his eyes and it somehow makes her feel as if her insides are being lit up on fire. She’s never felt beautiful dancing. Strong, yes. But nobody has ever watched her dance the way he’s doing right now. As she reaches up to finally unknot her shirt and take it off, for a moment, she’s completely distracted by the fact that she wants to know what will be the look on his face when she sees her in her lingerie.

_ That's why the lady is a tramp _

And that look, it’s worth it, Beth decides. The moment her shirt falls to the floor, his mouth is slightly agape, his eyes narrow slightly and despite all the movement, she sees his fingers twitch against his thigh, like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. For a moment there’s no rent to worry about. No Annie, no Ruby, no dance classes and no Natalie to hurl insults at her. In this moment, it’s just her and him.

_ What can I lose, 'cause I got no dough _

Rio thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful thing. Pale skin contrasting against deep black lace, a hint of her rosy nipples visible through the material. He licks his lips and his finger twitches from the urge to touch her, but also from this desire to own her. He briefly wonders what a creature like her is doing here, her body heavenly, her movements ethereal. And when the song finally comes to an end, it feels like a spell is broken. The curtains coming to a close as he watches her scramble for her shirt, hastily buttoning it up and tugging it down to cover herself. 

He feels stuck. Too drawn in by this woman, to the magnetic attraction to take his eyes away, so he stalks out of the room before Ethan has a chance to open his mouth.

-

“So...that was refreshing. I really liked the whole retro look. Maybe we can plan an entire brand for you around that.” Ethan taps his fingers on the desk as he rambles on, obviously trying to plan an entire show, coordinate outfits and music. Elizabeth clears her throat uncertainly as she puts on her coat.

“So...does this mean I got the job?”

Ethan chuckles in response, both his hands reaching around her arms to hold her. 

“Of course, dear! What, you think we’d let you go after a performance like that? Although we do have to work on your routine. Only taking off one item of clothing might be a problem...” 

Beth lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She’d gotten the job. She’d gotten the job! She’ll be able to put real food on the table from now on.

“Welcome to The Deep End, Beth!” She lets her face crack into a grin that matches Ethan’s own as she thanks him repeatedly.

-

She exits the club with a spring in her step, humming to a tune that she doesn’t even know, until she notices that he’s there, leaning against her car. Slowing down her pace, she approaches him cautiously, until he raises his gaze to meet hers.

“Impressive performance there, I guess you got the job?” She nods, then lets her face break into a small smile.

“Do you work here?” Beth asks tentatively. Rio looks at her, amusement clear on his face.

“Nah...everything inside there belongs to me.” He smirks. Beth is confused. “I own the place. So I guess I’ll be seeing more of you huh.” He takes a step towards her, entering her personal space. He’s so close she can smell him. And she’s not sure what she’d expected, but he smells musky and fresh, like sandalwood or some sort of expensive men's cologne she’s not familiar with.

Then before she can react, he’s stepped away, walking towards a black Cadillac and slipping out of the parking lot, leaving her alone, dumbstruck, clutching her coat like it’s a lifeline. Her breath completely stolen away. 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth's vocal midterms and her debut solo at the club fall on the same week, so she's exhausted. The girls are also expected to be introduced to club guests after their first premier performance and Beth gets a little too drunk.

Within a week of joining the club, Beth’s already gotten fitted for a dozen different outfits. Turns out, the girls usually have to earn their solos by proving that they are able to hold their own during group performances. So even though she’s used to the slower, sensual tunes that Ethan has agreed to allow her to perform during her own acts, she’s got to go through the group routines first. That involves dressing up in black leather bustiers and biker shorts, popping her hips and thrusting her chest out to the beat of the latest pop hit...which really isn’t up her alley.

By the end of her first month, she’s bone tired from the daily rehearsals she attends and from Natalie trying to break her back in dance class. It also doesn’t help that the mysterious club owner she met on the day of her audition turns up a few times a week, locking eyes with her during her dance routines, then disappears before she can strike a conversation. It’s distracting.

It’s not like she’s interested in him. Ok, maybe she is. But she’s dead sure he doesn’t even notice her. Elizabeth attributes his watching of the performances as a way to keep his dancers up to standard. Although there’s always that look he has on his face when he’s watching her. She shakes her head and tries to push the thoughts of that caramel skinned stranger with the neck tattoo out of her mind. 

  
She’s got better things to worry about. Like that vocal mid term she’s got coming up which also doubles up as the institute’s way of making sure she’s worthy of the scholarship they offered her. Every assessment is held in the most elusive studio on campus. The round room they call it. It’s built to enhance the acoustics such that every quiver in the voice, every slight change in pitch, can be detected as clear as day. Students are allowed to book practice sessions before their performance, but with the club taking up so much of her time and the reservation slots being extremely sought after, she hasn’t gotten a chance to even step into the room.

Beth knows she’s got a good voice. It’s like her minor superpower and the only reason she got accepted into the institute. But talent is wasted without hard work, and she hasn’t really been putting in the hours recently. A quick session in the shower isn’t going to cut it, not when she doesn’t know how her voice is going to sound like in the round room. 

But she’s got a plan. She’s got to stay back late at the club to practice her solo act coming up next week, so she’s going to practice on that beautiful stage with almost perfect acoustics. All she has to do is convince Ethan to let her do the lock up.

It doesn’t take much really. She just bats her eyelashes a little and then chews on her lips as she explains how nervous she is about her first solo act and how she could _really_ use the practice and Ethan’s already nodding at her empathetically, handing her the key to the backdoor. She does a mental fist pump before heading to the changing room to put on her makeup.

“Did you see the ride he rolled up in last night?” One of the girls, Monica, asks the group absentmindedly.

“It was a fuckin’ G-Wagon! That shit costs like a hundred gees or something.” Brittany answers back while adding way too much blush to her cheeks.

Beth wonders who they are talking about, but stays silent anyway. She’s here to make money and she doesn’t really know the girls well enough to engage in any sort of conversation. They're nice, although Elaine’s already given her enough heads up about the little cliques and the kind of drama that goes down here.

“They’re talking about Rio, the club owner.” Elaine whispers to her while bumping her shoulder. 

Oh.

“I heard he’s super rich. Prolly a drug dealer or arms dealer. Pretty sure one small club doesn’t bring in enough cash for that kind of ride and connections. I mean, we’re pretty popular, but have you seen his watch?” Monica adds on, before being shushed by Elaine. 

“What! I mean, that dude’s smokin’ hot and stinkin’ rich. I think he likes me. He’s been coming in wayyyyy more often than he used to.” She continues to blabber on.

“Yeah right. If he liked you, he’d be coming in frequently since you started working here. Which is like a hundred years ago.” Elaine teases as Monica swats her on the arm, before throwing her a stink eye. 

Huh. Elizabeth thinks to herself. Rich, handsome and coming in too often recently. And his name is Rio. She files the information away in her mind before it runs wild and begins to put on her makeup.

-

By the time the club closes its doors, Beth is exhausted. The girls had been milling around the lounge floor having drinks with their regulars while she volunteered to help pack up the various costumes and props they’d been using earlier. She doesn’t have regulars yet and secretly, she hopes she never does. Even though the girls tell her that it pays much better than what the club does, she’s slightly worried about saying the wrong thing, or worse, ending up with the wrong kind of customers. The dancers usually have their first introduction to _The Enclosure,_ that’s what the girls call the lounge floor, after their first solo and Beth has been dreading it. Monica said she was so drunk her first time, she couldn’t remember who she ended up with or what they’d done. She appeared in the club the next afternoon with a hefty amount in her wallet and a ruby necklace. Beth’s eyes had almost popped out from her eyes upon hearing that story, but Elaine had reassured her that it was fine. The blush on her face said otherwise though.

Blowing the bangs out of her hair, she briefly thinks of just calling it a night and giving up on rehearsing, but the thought of losing her scholarship holds her back. She drags her feet to the middle of the stage and takes a deep breath, warming up her vocal cords with some light exercises before starting to sing.

She’d chosen one of her favourites for the recital. It provides a good range for her to demonstrate her abilities, and at the same time, resonates with how she feels. “ _I want to hear your emotion”_ she remembers her instructor saying. Which is why she picked this song in the first place.

_I dreamed a dream in time gone by_

_When hope was high and life worth living_

The moment her voice reverberates around the lounge, her eyes widen in amazement. She was right the first time she set her eyes on this place. The room was built by men who were perfectionists at their craft. The usual beats of the band and the music from the sound system already proved it so, but the sound of her voice bouncing off the rounded edges and echoing in her ears sent shivers down her spine. Her lips curl up into a smile.

_I dreamed, that love would never die_

_I dreamed that God would be forgiving_

She remembers the first time she ever sang in front of a crowd. Annie and her had been strolling along the streets in the evening, escaping the confines of their shoebox sized apartment when they chanced upon a busker playing the guitar. The crowd had been thin, so when he invited her to sing beside him, she’d gamely taken up the offer. It’d been an impromptu thing, but by the time she was done, a crowd had formed and the applause was almost deafening. She’d been embarrassed, her blush going all the way down her neck, but she’d also felt something else, like a bloom of happiness and pride in her chest that managed to push away all the darkness and desperation that had taken root there. It had made her feel special. Turns out, one of the talent officers for the school had been in the crowd that day and offered for her to come audition at the institute. She thought it would change her life.

_But the tigers come at night_

_With their voices soft as thunder_

_As they tear your hope apart_

_As they turn your dream to shame_

But it didn’t. She wasn’t spotted for her talent like she thought she would and she didn’t give her sister a better life. They lived in the same shoebox apartment and even with the scholarship, they had even more bills to pay. She remembers the desperation of not having enough money or the insurance required to take Annie to the doctor when she was running a fever. The wet washcloth clutched in her hand like some sort of talisman she could use to chase the febrile illness away. How she had nothing to give to her sister but water and her tears, how she’d been so guilty of using money on herself, for her school fees, instead of saving it for something that really mattered. She remembers how she had prayed that day, but received no answer.

_I had a dream my life would be_

_So different from this hell I'm living_

_So different now from what it seemed_

_Now life has killed the dream_

_I dreamed_

By the time she's done with the song, an errant tear had tracked down her face. The room was wonderful, her voice haunting, and the excitement she initially had for the acoustics had opened up into a gaping hole in her chest. The sound of slow clapping seizes her from the thoughts.

“You’ve got quite a voice.” Elizabeth hastily brushes the tear off her face as she makes her way off the stage. He's here. He had listened to her sing. That tattooed stranger she’d met that day.

“I didn’t know you were here. I told Ethan I’d locked up.” She looks at him sheepishly, embarrassed that she’d been caught using the club premises to practice.

“Was on my way out when I heard you start to sing.” He takes a step closer to her and Beth’s forced to tilt her head up just to maintain eye contact.

“I...I have a mid term assessment coming up. The acoustics here are way better than in my shower.” She answers honestly, her cheeks already pinking from being so close to him. And he actually chuckles at her little joke, his eyes sparkling. He’s in a blue button up today and she briefly sweeps her eyes across his neck to take in that tattoo he has. He notices, smirking at her in response.

“Wanna have a drink?” She usually doesn’t. Doesn’t drink often. But she nods anyway, as she follows him towards her bar.

“So what was that?” He asks, obviously referring to her gut wrenching performance. She cringes a little, before deciding to feign ignorance. Maybe he’ll let it go.

“What was what? I told you, I was practicing.” 

She’s got some fight in her, and Rio appreciates that. But her voice, the way she had sung that song, it sounded like she was broken. Call him curious, but he wants to know more about her. Wants to get beneath her pretty face and doe eyes, to turn her from the inside out, to bury himself in her hair, to know what breaks her and holds her together.

He pours himself a glass of vodka and when he asks for her poison, he’d expected her to go with something sweet and easy like moscato, but then she’d gone and surprised him by asking for bourbon. Neat, no less.

He’s impressed. Not just by her impeccable taste in alcohol, but also by how she sits with her back all straight and her chin tilted up, like he hadn’t just seen her at her most exposed and vulnerable.

“So why are you working here? Heard you’re on some scholarship.” Beth flinches. He really doesn’t ask the easy questions. But she’d already evaded him on the previous one, so she tells him the truth.

“I need the money. My sister and I.” Her reply is short, but it’s honest and it speaks volumes. She doesn’t have a privileged background and although she’s not proud of it, she isn’t ashamed of who she is. She just wants to do better. Give her family a decent shot at life.

“Don’t we all.” He replies and Beth scoffs. Like he’d know what it feels like to need money. The man is dripping with it. Rio raises an eyebrow in amusement at her reaction, eyes her curiously.

“No offense, but you don’t seem to be lacking in that aspect.” 

She retorts and then bites her lip in regret when she remembers who she’s talking to. Fuck, if she keeps this up, she’ll be fired before she can even perform her own solo. Rio notices the remorse on her face and waves it off.

“It wasn’t always like that. My name’s Rio by the way. You’re Elizabeth right?” He raises his glass to her and she clinks hers against his.

“It’s Beth. Just Beth.” She lowers her eyes and runs her index finger along the edge of her glass.

“Nah, it’s never just Beth. I’mma call you Elizabeth.” With that, he empties his glass and then rounds the bar to place a hand on her shoulder. The heat from his skin burns through her hoodie.

“Good luck with your recital yeah? And see you around.” With that, he’s gone, his empty glass left on the bar table, her bourbon filled one nestled in her hand.

-

She’d nailed it. Her recital in the round room was a smashing success. There was not a dry eye in the room after she was done with her song and she’d scored an A+. She knew she could sing, but having official documentation of that never hurt. So when the time rolled around for her to head to the club for her debut solo, she was on cloud nine. She felt... _unstoppable_ really, wind in her hair and a sparkle in her eyes that she couldn’t hide.

The costume team had done a wonderful job with her premier outfit. They’d decided to go full on Marilyn Monroe and even custom ordered a blonde wig for her. It was shorter than her usual hair, ending slightly below her ears and perfectly curled. Her dress...or if she could call it that, consisted of a pearl bustier and matching underwear sewn on nude fabric. It was...provocative, playful but still classy in a way that Beth absolutely loved.

She’d come up with a backstory for her club persona, wanting to at least retain some sort of her real life in privacy. So by day, she was Elizabeth Marks, honor roll arts student struggling to make rent. By night, she was Joan. Fun, flirty, carefree Joan with a love for all things sparkly and unafraid to show a little skin. They both had one thing in common though, and that was a proclivity for a good shot of Bourbon. 

Elizabeth beams at herself in the mirror, her lips plump, full and red. Her eyes twinkling and blue, framed by thick lashes. Her skin sparkling even under the dim lights in the changing room - thanks to the shimmer lotion Brad, the costume master, had given her. She feels powerful, a thrilling sort of excitement buzzing on the surface of her skin. 

She runs her fingers over the delicate strings of pearls framing her body and admires herself in the mirror. She’s never seen herself like this before, always preferring to cover up with sweaters and tights even during her dance classes. But...she likes it. Likes the way her small waist contrasts the full roundness of her hips and even though she’s always felt insecure about how _chesty_ she is, she admires the swell of breasts and is pleased by how they almost spill from the cups of her custom sized outfit.

“Feeling good about ourselves are we?” She hears the teasing tone of Brad’s voice and spins around, rewarding him with a huge grin. Brad is one of her favourites here at the club. He’s always cracking jokes and making sure the girls are well taken care of, and on the days she’d stayed back to help pack up while the girls toured the enclosure, he’d always been by her side, packing costumes back into their plastic sleeves, putting accessories back into the boxes where they belong. The way he always seems so carefree somehow infects her with a blithe spirit of her own. She likes being around him. Feels like she has a big brother watching over her.

“All thanks to your splendid outfit and wig.” She throws back a laugh of her own, while he runs a few fingers through her hair to fluff it up, even though it’s already big enough.

“You’re going to do great, Beth. We haven’t had someone like you come through our doors since we opened, and I’m sure the crowd will LOVE you.” He smooths down some of the pearl strands on her outfit, before placing two hands on her shoulders, looking into her reflection in the mirror. She thinks about a different hand that had been placed on her shoulder just nights before and she wonders if he’ll be here tonight. 

Beth blushes and sets her own hands on top of his, squeezing gently to thank him. It’s nice to have someone believe in her, even if she might not always do so.

-

_A kiss on the hand may be quite continental_

_But diamonds are a girl's best friend_

_A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental_

_On your humble flat, or help you at the automat_

She’d specifically requested for this song. An introduction to her alter-ego, something fun and hides all her real life problems under a personality of a girl just looking for sparkly things and life’s simple indulgences. She feels herself transform into Joan on stage, the looks she sends to her audience flirty and provocative. Yet at the same time, she finds herself scanning the crowd for a pair of familiar black eyes, disappointed when her search comes up empty.

_Men grow cold as girls grow old_

_And we all lose our charms in the end_

_But square cut or pear shaped_

_These rocks don't lose their shape_

_Diamonds are a girl's best friend_

Then she sees him, tucked away in one of the booths at the farthest end of the stage, hidden behind the pearl strings almost similar to the ones she has on. She can barely see him through the veil, but she knows he’s watching. His gaze is unmovable, fixated on her as she twists and twirls along with the band. It’s almost as if the room disappears, and her performance is designed exclusively for him. Her eyes taper as she sends him lust filled gazes, her lips mimicking the lyrics to the song.

_Tiffany's, Cartier, Blackstar, Frost, Ghoram_

_Talk to me, Harry Winston, tell me all about it_

_There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer_

_But diamonds are a girl's best friend_

Fuck, she’s fucking beautiful. He’s gotta give Brian? Bran? Brad? Whatever his name is a raise because the pearls she’s wearing and those large feathered fans around her makes her look like she’s fucking Venus popping out of that damn shell. He’s supposed to be having a business meeting, but he can’t take his eyes off her and the words coming out of his partner’s mouth just sounds like muffled garbage right now. His pants feel fucking tight and he’s clutching his whiskey glass so hard he feels like he might crack it. He’s pretty sure Mick’s jabbing him in his side trying to get his attention right now, but he just can’t stop looking at her.

_Time rolls on and youth is gone_

_And you can't straighten up when you bend_

_But stiff back or stiff knees_

_You stand straight at Tiffany's_

Holy...shit. She’s already wearing so little, he can’t imagine she’ll be taking anything off tonight, but she does. The pearls slowly slip from her and just when he thinks he’ll get a full obstructed view of what’s underneath them, the backup dancers swiftly place the large feathered fan in front of her as she blinks innocently. She hops onto the piano and the fan almost slips from its position, but it never does, she’s touching the pianist now and Rio wishes he could crack his fingers so he can never play again. His jaw is held tight, and even though he’s enjoying every minute of her performance, he’s got a scowl etched on his face.

_Diamonds_

_Diamonds_

_I don't mean rhinestones_

_But Diamonds_

_Are A Girl's Best_

_Best friend_

Her routine finally comes to an end and Rio thanks the heavens for little mercies because he’s so hard right now it feels like all the blood has rushed to his cock and left none in his brain. But as the music trails off, one of the feathers from the ridiculously large fan tickles her nose so she scrunches her face up and...lets out one of the most dainty sneezes he’s ever heard in his life. And just like that, the crowd erupts into unrestrained laughter and the applause that explodes in the room is like nothing he’s ever heard, some of the guests even standing in an ovation. She blushes, and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The scowl on his face is replaced with a resigned smile as he finally takes his eyes off the stage and resumes his business discussion.

Beth is ushered back into the changing room and passed a robe while the girls squeal and gush around her. She’s not used to the attention so she just quietly redresses and accepts a few hugs from them. She did it. It’s been one of the most tiring weeks of her life, but she did it and right now she feels _invincible_. Ethan walks up to her and tells her to put on that Great Gatsby outfit they’ve put together for her and prepare herself for her first grand tour of the enclosure. Right. Beth had almost forgotten about that. She’s not done yet, just one more performance and she can strip off these heels and collapse in her bed for the next twelve hours. Or that’s what she thinks.

She keeps her wig on and puts on a jewelled headband with a ridiculous feather sticking out of it. Then she shimmies into an equally bedazzled dress that ends just slightly below the curve of her ass. Whoever thought this outfit was Great Gatsby appropriate is definitely very mistakened. She scowls at the mirror when she notices how much of her ass is revealed when she bends over to pull on black stockings.

“You got an issue with my dress Beth?” It’s Brad again and even though she does hate the dress, she bursts into a giggle. 

“You call this a dress? It barely covers my ass!” She wriggles her nose in disdain as she fastens her stockings to the garters she has on.

“Well, it’s your first time in the enclosure, we’ve got to give them a taste. Besides, I heard from Ethan that there are already a few gentlemen who are very eager to meet you.” Brad helps her out with one of the fastens at the back of her thigh and she pinks at the thought of a man touching her there. She’s flattered by his comment, really. She also knows she’s not like the other girls in here. But even though the money from dancing has been helping to cover rent, she’s still barely staying afloat. She doesn’t want to entertain the idea of sleeping with anyone for money though. There’s a limit to what she’ll do and she’d promised Annie and Ruby that dancing at a burlesque club was the farthest she’d go. She has no issue with the other girls who do it, hell, she even respects them for having the courage to do whatever it takes so they don’t drown in the hell of life. But it’s a little part of herself that she still wants to keep to herself, for however long she can.

When she takes Ethan’s hand and steps out into the lounge, she’s immediately shuffled into one of the booths and introduced to a rather old, but handsome gentleman. The conversation isn’t too bad, but there’s a lot of sexual innuendo and offers to take her back to their penthouses or suites for a good night of fun. From then on, it’s glass after glass of bourbon, a ton of small talk where she puts on the persona of Joan and answers question after question of “What do you like more, pearls or rubies?” The answer is rubies even though the real Beth loves pearls.

There’s always a hand on her thigh, which makes her twitch, but she does nothing to shift or move it away, until the hand tries to make its way up further, which, she then playfully swats at it, bats her lashes and exclaims in faux horror that “she’s a proper lady!”. By the time she’s almost done, Ethan is nowhere to be seen and she’s left with a greasy looking young lad and too much bourbon in her system. The room is spinning, so she doesn’t make any move to stand. Instead, she just plasters on one of her most ditzy looking smiles and pretends to nod at everything the man is saying, trying to stop herself from collapsing right there in the booth.

“You look tired, how ‘bout I take you home and take care of you tonight?” Beth doesn’t register what she’s saying. The room feels too small and claustrophobic right now and she can barely form any sentences. Instead, she nods the same way she’s been doing the entire night and then she’s pulled onto her feat, the man’s arms around her waist propping her up and moving her through the club. She’s shaking her head. She really doesn’t want to go anywhere right now and with the way the room is spinning, she feels like she’s on one of those teacup rides Annie loves at the carnival.

“N..no.” She barely gets it out of her mouth before they suddenly stop walking and she’s being grabbed into someone else’s arms.

“I believe the lady said no.” The low drawl of his voice is familiar, but she has her eyes closed and she doesn’t want to open it. The lights are blending into streaks and fucking with her vision.

“Rio! Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” The greasy young man replies, startled, but puffs up his chest and straightens his jacket. “I paid good money for her to spend her night with me.” He adds.

“Yeah, you paid good money for her to spend time with you here. You’re not taking her anywhere unless she agrees.” Mick and Demon have appeared now and are standing beside the young man, their stance intimidating and unwavering.

“Right right. If this is how you want to do business…” He trails off, before Rio shoots him a look that shuts him up. Letting out an annoyed growl that really sounded more like someone clearing their throat, he stalks off looking for Ethan, requesting for Candy’s company instead.

“You ok sweetheart?” He moves Beth into his booth, before lowering her onto the sofa gently. Beth shakes her head, a pout forming on those beautiful lips and he has to resist the urge to kiss her.

“I feel like I’m in a teacup.” Her eyes are still closed, but he lets out a low chuckle. Her dress has ridden up and he sees the tops of her stockings and the garters attached to them as he sucks in a breath.

“Handsome.” He returns his gaze to her and realizes her eyes are open now, staring at him dreamily as she giggles, her finger tracing the tattoo at his neck.

“You referring to the tattoo or me?” He teases her, before reaching to tuck a strand of her errant hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes briefly, leaning into his touch, before opening them again, her baby blues so wide he feels like it could swallow him whole.

“Wanna lick it…” She hiccups, which throws Rio into a whole loop, before she starts giggling and the sound is like fucking music in his ears.

“Shall I send you home?” He asks gently, motioning for Mick to get her some water from the bar.

She pouts again, this time an even bigger one and he watches as her nose crinkles in displeasure. She shakes her head, the jewelled headband almost falling off with how hard she does it.

“Am comfy here…” She snuggles even closer to him and buries her nose in his collar.

“Smells nice.” She sighs contentedly as she wraps her hands around his, fingers playing with the cuffs around his sleeves.

Rio twitches in his seat. He’s not supposed to do this. Not supposed to show preferential treatment for any of the girls who work for him, but he’s got a fucking soft spot for this blonde and her doe eyes. Her beautiful voice and her classy dance moves. His fingers twitch as his logical side tells him to extricate himself from her and get Ethan to have her taken home. But instead, he raises his other hand to trail small circles on her thigh.

“That tickles!” She squirms in her seat, laughter ringing out in the small enclosed space of the booth.

“You say you’re comfy, but you’re gonna regret it tomorrow Mama.” He mumbles, but makes no move to shift her, only pressing the glass of water to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. She obliges, but some of it drips from her mouth and trails down her chin, tracking a path down to her perfect cleavage.

“Oops.” She traces a finger down from her chin and to where the liquid has settled. There’s heat pooling in between her legs and she aches for him. She wonders if it’s the abundance of alcohol in her system or it’s just this effect he has on her. Her chest is heaving from the effort of trying to keep her lust in check, and the room still spins too much. But he looks too kissable and she moves closer to them, their lips just inches apart.

Rio clenches his jaw in frustration. She’s seducing him. He knows that. And God does he want her too. He imagines snapping the garters off of her and tearing through her stockings. Imagines laying his hands on miles and miles of her soft skin. But not like this, not like that.

Clearing his throat, he sits up a little straighter as she lets out a little groan of displeasure. He’s still thinking about what to do next when there’s a slight weight on his shoulder and no other sound except her steady breathing. Did she just...fall asleep?

He chuckles to himself as he tries to wake her, but all she does is let out little annoyed sounds and swats his hands away. This woman is a trip, he thinks to himself. But he doesn’t know where she lives and he doesn’t really want to speak with Ethan today, so he gets Mick to bring the Caddy over. He briefly thinks about taking her home in his G-Wagon, but he’d rather have his hands wrapped around her than around a steering wheel. And no one drives his Mercedes but him, so the Caddy it is.

She barely stirs when he picks her up and leaves the club, a couple of eyes following them as he does so, but he doesn’t react to it. Slipping into the back seat with her, she instinctively curls herself up around him, her nose buried in his neck, making herself comfortable. And in the enclosed space of the car, her scent is everywhere. It envelopes him and seeps into his every pore, bleeds under his skin, the same way she already has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was CRAZY FUN to write! I also loved picking out the songs and writing both their POVs in between the lyrics. I hope it wasn't too confusing with the switches between Rio and Beth! I'm really enjoying myself and I hope you like reading it too. The comments have been AMAZINGLY encouraging and they help power me through each chapter. Thank you so much. Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed it too!
> 
> Also, I based Beth's dance routines and outfits off some scenes from Burlesque :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending a night (and morning) with Rio, Elizabeth realises that he might have a girlfriend. But that's not the worst part.

Elizabeth wakes up with a pounding in her head and churning in her stomach that fills her mouth instinctively with spit. She’s trying her best not to gag, but she feels like she’s spent the past few days floating at sea, the queasiness encompassing her whole. The next discovery she makes is that she isn’t at home. The moment that realization hits her, she shoots up from the bed and instantly regrets it as a streak of pain bursts through her skull.

“Yo, take it easy.” A hand reaches out to help her back into bed, but she resists, shaking her head and clutching the dress shirt she has on like it steadies her.

“Where am I?” She realises she’s with Rio, and the question is truly a moot one since she’s obviously in someone’s home, and he’s standing right in front of her. He studies her, then answers the question she’s really asking…

“You’re here because you couldn’t take care of yourself last night.” His jaw clenches in dissatisfaction, even though he passes her a bottle of Advil and a glass of orange juice. When she doesn’t take it, he shakes the bottle, pills jostling noisily and she squeezes her eyes as her headache worsens. Scowling, she takes the bottle from him and downs two pills.

Sipping on the juice, she contemplates what he’d said. She still has her dress on beneath the shirt she’s wearing and the other side of the bed seems perfectly made...so she doubts he’s taken advantage of her. But what she doesn’t understand is why he’s in such a bad pissy mood.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” She blurts out without thinking, instantly wanting to take it back when she notices how his face darkens.

“Oh yeah? So you’d have been totally fine last night going home with Ricardo?” Her eyes widen in confusion.

“Who’s Ricardo?” He instantly scoffs, the sound condescending and depreciating. She feels herself curl in shame.

“You’re proving my point darlin’. If I hadn’t stepped in, you would have woken up in his bed. Not mine.” There’s malice in his words that cut her, but she’s not going to let him have the upperhand. So instead, she draws her claws.

“Whose bed I end up in is none of your concern.” She turns her face from him in pettiness and she can literally feel the anger radiating from him even though he’s far away. Beth knows she’s being a bitch right now, the least she could do is thank him for taking her home, but she’s so used to having to take care of herself that being told she’s done a bad job of doing so just...stings.

She sighs in frustration and discomfort. She’s still got to attend a dance class in the afternoon but her head feels like it’s about to burst and every movement she makes just inches her closer to the precipice of having to throw up at his feet.

He must clock the greenness in her face, because the next moment, he’s crouching down by her side at the edge of the bed and running a soothing palm along the back.

“Not feeling so hot, are we? Want to take a shower?” Elizabeth reaches out for the olive branch he’s extending and nods weakly, she takes his hand when he offers it and lets him lead her to the ensuite bathroom. He doesn’t follow her, letting her lock the doors behind her after showing her where the towels and toiletries are kept.

Rio’s place is nice. Very nice actually. She’d been so busy arguing with him and fighting the nausea that she never really got to appreciate it. The bathroom is immaculately decorated. Subway tiles on the walls, a huge mirror and even a separate tub and shower. The luxury of it all amazes her, and at the same time crushes her as she remembers how small her own bathroom is in comparison.

She pulls out her phone to dial Annie as she removes her wig, her scalp smarting from wearing it for so long. She soothes the hair underneath it and fluffs it up a little, but it’s futile seeing how it’s so matted and limp.

“What’s up, homie?” Annie’s voice comes on after a few rings.

“Annie, I just wanted to let you know that I had a late night at the club and spent the night with Elaine. I’ll be heading to school straight so don’t worry about me.” She spins up a story because she knows Annie will be badgering her for the next few days if she’d told her how she ended up at Rio’s place.

“Wait...you didn’t come home last night? I just thought you left super early.” Beth rolls her eyes. She should have expected this.

“Anyway cool, is that all? I gotta run, Greg’s picking me up. Ok bye!” With that, the line runs dead and Elizabeth’s left facing her reflection in the mirror.

The hot shower helps sooth her frayed nerves just a little but does nothing to ease the nausea. At least her hair’s back to normal. Wrapping a towel around herself, she shrieks when she steps out of the bathroom to find Rio sitting on the bed.

“Got you some clothes.” He eyes her from head to toe, the little droplets of water falling from her hair and rolling off her shoulders.

He leaves her a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and she’s thankful that she doesn’t have to put on that dress from last night.

  
“There’s breakfast outside when you’re ready.” She mouths a thank you to him, before he leaves the room, leaving her to dress. She runs her fingers over the shirt and it’s so soft. Slipping into it feels like heaven after having to wear that ridiculous outfit the entire night. There’s no hair dryer though, so she towel dries her hair the best she can and steps out of the bedroom.

Beth’s immediately assaulted by the smell of bacon and suddenly she’s completely hurled off that precipice her nausea was previously tethering on. Bolting for the bathroom, she barely gets the door closed before she’s throwing up into the toilet, groaning as the acid burns her throat. Rio’s right behind her though, holding her hair back as she retches, her body heaving with the effort. He runs his palm along her spine, the action soothing her.

When her stomach is finally empty, her face burns with the embarrassment of having him see her like this. Sputtering, she reaches for the mouthwash in the cabinet and rinses her mouth out, leaning her back against the vanity when she’s done to catch her breath. He’s barely a step away, his hands reaching out to brush away a little errant curl. 

“Feeling better?” He’s so close she can smell tea and mint on his breath, her eyes locked on the way his lips are moving.

She does nothing but nod, afraid that any words that spill from her mouth will betray her longing and desire to kiss him. Her eyes move from his lips to his neck, tracking the scruff he has.

“That’s a huge tattoo.” She blurts out, before mentally socking herself for being such an idiot. At least he’s enjoying himself as he chuckles, face still mere inches away from her.

“That’s not what you said last night.” She quirks her brow in amusement and confusion. She doesn’t remember much.

  
“You said you wanted to lick it.” The way her face erupts into a fiery blush that spreads all the way down her chest and envelopes her entire body makes him want to just tear off all her clothes. But he just stays there, unmoving. 

“I still do.” It comes out quiet, barely a whisper. But she sees his eyes widen and darken, lust pooling in the dark orbs. And then his lips are on hers and she feels her heart threatening to burst in her chest. She’s kissed guys before, even before Dean. After Dean. But they’ve always treated her like she was a porcelain doll, fragile and meant to be treated with the greatest care. Rio’s not like this. His lips are firm and persistent against hers, they are inviting and it makes her reciprocate with a fervent eagerness of her own.

She can feel his hardness through his sweatpants and it fills her veins with something she doesn’t recognize, like a feral lust that simply keeps burning. 

Elizabeth moans into his mouth and it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever heard. Her small hands are on his chest and he knows he’s rocking his hips against her thigh but he isn’t sure if he intended to do so, or if she’s consumed every inch of his rational side that his body is acting on instinct.

Either way, she breaks the kiss first, her face in horror after the cloud of lust dissipates. He’s worried for a moment. Did she regret it?

“I just puked!” He laughs again. They just shared the single hottest kiss he’s ever had in his life and she’s worried about her breath smelling of sick. He runs the knuckle of his finger along the bridge of her nose and she scrunches it up in that exact way he has grown to adore and lets out a little growl.

“You’re really something else Elizabeth.” She blinks up at him innocently, still trying to steady her heart, when she daintily asks.

“So...about that breakfast…”

-

She learns that he drinks tea and not coffee, and that he likes his eggs over easy, not scrambled. He also learns that his lips feel like magic on hers and that he’s patient in a way that none of the other men she’s ever dated are. He takes his time to admire her in between kisses and likes curling her hair around her ears. He doesn’t go any further than placing a hand at her ribs, until she’s left so riled up and turned on that she’s the one that pulls his hand onto her breast. The sound he makes when he touches her causes her to curl her toes in pleasure. But they don’t go further than that. She knows that it’s not that he doesn’t want to, because she feels his arousal pressing against her, but he wants her to make the first move. 

And truth is, while she likes that he respects her, she also wants to see him lose control. 

Trying to extricate herself from him and his apartment after breakfast and an hour of making out like they were in high school was one of the hardest things Beth had ever done. The hardest, was turning up to dance class in his t-shirt and sweatpants. Natalie gave her hell for it, calling her an "underdressed bumpkin with no respect for the craft", and even though her cheeks scorched with the strength of a midday sun and angry words threatened to burst forth from her mouth, she bit her tongue and pushed on anyway. 

She also can’t take her mind off the way he’d tucked a golden gun into the back of his jeans when he left the apartment to drop her off at school. A casual "don't worry about it" didn't help to quash the various images of him getting involved in drug deals or worse…actually shooting someone with that gun. But she also reminds herself that it's just a one time thing. She was drunk, he took her home and they made out. Right? 

-

Elizabeth was not prepared for the weird stares and hushed whispers that welcomed her when she walked into the club that night. Technically she wasn't scheduled to dance, but one of the girls had called in sick, so she volunteered to take over her spot. Something was pulling her to the club and she knows it has everything to do with her caramel skinned boss. 

"They saw you leave with Rio last night…" Elaine slips into the stool next to her and whispers. 

Oh, so that's what the weird looks were about. 

"Rio's like the unattainable prize here in the club. So many girls have tried, and tried hard. But he never so much as gives us a second look. You can't blame them for being jealous." 

Elizabeth continues with her makeup, not sparing the other girls more than a glance.

“Nothing happened. He just took me home, that's all.” Technically, she wasn’t lying. She just didn’t mention that he took her back to his apartment.

“Won’t stop them from talking. Be careful alright Beth? I know he’s charming and all, but that man’s into some shady business. Plus, we think he has a girlfriend. She’s come here once or twice.” Her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach. He has a girlfriend? Of course he has a girlfriend. 

_He has a girlfriend_.

The words can’t stop repeating themselves in her head even as she’s done with her routines and the pack up. Her feet feel like they’re bound by lead, so she sits in one of the corners of the changing rooms, her head moving a mile a minute. 

It’s almost two in the morning and she cringes at the thought of having spent the whole day in his clothes besides changing into the costumes she’d needed to dance. Tugging on the hem of the t-shirt, she wonders if Annie has noticed her absence tonight, or if her sister even had dinner. She’d made muffins after they’d some grocery done and she’s looking forward to heading home and heating them up. _Five more minutes_ , she tells herself, as she sinks her face into her hands, cradling them as if the answers were written into the lines of her palm. 

There’s shuffling sounds coming from the back of the club and she perks up. Beth’s pretty sure she’s the last one in here, having already bid goodbye to the others almost an hour ago. But then the movements are getting louder and she can hear people talking. She wants to make a hasty escape, but there’s no way out other than through the storage space where the back door is. So she holds her bag close to her and creeps out of the changing room, keeping close to the walls her feet treading lightly.

It’s Rio. He’s dressed in the same black shirt she saw him in earlier in the day, but the golden gun he had tucked in his jeans is now in his hand, pointed at a man kneeling on the floor. She gasps, her hands shooting to cover her mouth as she watches on. He’s not alone either, the guy that drove them last night, Mike? Mick? He’s here too, with a few others just standing around casually. Then she notices a woman sitting on a desk, her long legs and red stilettos catch her eye. She’s laughing. The sound awfully artificial as it bounces off the empty walls of the storage area.

The man kneeling is crying now, his pleas coming out in pitiful sobs that wreck his entire body. There’s a black duffel bag next to him filled with money.

“You know better than to turn on me.” Rio waves the gun at the man and Beth barely recognizes him. His smile is wolfish, his stance predatory and there’s a sick sense of confidence in the way he’s waving his gun that makes her realize that he’s probably done this countless times.

“P-please. They have my wife! They’ll kill her.” The man’s head is on the floor now, his hands shaking from the fear.

“How boring. You couldn’t even come up with a better excuse? You have no wife. No children. You were just greedy.” The woman’s talking now. Her tone disinterested and dismissive.

And just like that, it’s like a switch is flipped in the man and he erupts into fits of rabid laughter and it’s one of the most horrible things Beth has ever heard. 

“Fuck you! Both of you! Miguel will destroy you and your g-” before he can finish, the deafening sound of a gunshot bursts through the room and the man falls backward, blood splattering across the floor. She tries to stop herself, she tries, her hand almost bruising against her jaw, but she hears herself scream anyway.

At least her legs aren’t frozen anymore. The moment she sees them turn their heads in her direction, she runs. Where to, she’s not sure, but she’s fuelled by pure instinct now so she bolts for the main lounge - except there’s nowhere to hide.

“Elizabeth.”

Fuck. She’s the last person he wants to see right now. Mick’s got his hands around her and he can see her visibly shaking, her eyes wide open in horror and a clear track of tears staining her cheeks. She’s still in his clothes and his chest aches a little at the thought of the time they spent together this morning. 

He wants to tell Mick to take his hands off her, but Sofia’s already in the lounge and he can’t show any weakness. 

“You know this one?” Sofia walks up to Elizabeth and runs a perfectly manicured finger along her cheek, as if assessing a shipment of goods. Even through her apparent distress, Elizabeth manages to glare at the intimidating woman in front of her, chin lifted in defiance.

“She’s one of my dancers.” He replies casually, lounging on one of the nearby sofas. His finger itches to reach out to her, to soothe her frayed nerves. Instead, he ignores her, not wanting to expose just how important she is to him. 

“Well, we have to get rid of her.” Sofia takes out a gun of her own, the sound of it cocking makes Elizabeth recoil. She places the barrel against Beth’s temple and looks to Rio for the go ahead. Even then, with the tears streaming down her face, there’s not a single sound from her. No pleas to save her life, no begging, no hysterical screaming. And as much as Rio hates the thought of her in this position, he’s fucking impressed.

“Nah, you’re not killing anyone inside here. The carpets are new.” He’s on his feet now, a few strides away from Sofia, his pace languid, his tone even. 

  
“Plus, she’s one of our best. Brings in good money. I’ll handle it.” Sofia cocks a brow in suspicion as he raises his arm to lower her gun. She reluctantly obliges, before slipping the gun back into her purse, a beautiful pout forming on her face. She turns to Rio instead, the little distraction of Elizabeth momentarily forgotten as she traces her finger along the buttons of his shirt.

“Guess you’re busy tonight then.” She looks up at him through fluttered lashes and he chuckles darkly. Is she his girlfriend? Elizabeth wonders as she watches their interaction. His hands are placed lowly on her hip, but she can’t tell if it’s to put her in her place or a gesture of affection.

“Guess I am.” With that, Rio steps away from her, putting some distance between them again. He turns to look at Beth, and there’s a flash of concern in his eyes before it’s replaced with that cold dark look he’s been wearing all night.

Sofia turns to leave through the back of the building without as much as a goodbye and Rio’s left with his boys in the room. With a wave of his hand, they too disappear out back and then she’s left kneeling on the ground in front of him, anger, frustration and fear burning in her gut.

“Want a drink?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of a block writing this, which is why I didn't manage to post it up earlier. The plan was to write a chapter a day to take things off the quarantine and life at home in general, but sometimes things don't go as planned. 
> 
> I did manage to do a quick doodle of Elizabeth in that pearl getup she wore for her debut at The Deep End. I'm not an artist so it's definitely amateur work. But I had real fun doing it, and writing this chapter. I hope you had fun reading this too!
> 
> As always, your comments keep me going. It's really encouraging for someone who's not super confident in their writing. I appreciate all your feedback, suggestions and love! Thank you so much :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth's not scared, despite everything she's seen and knows Rio is capable of. And Rio, well, Rio's intrigued by this woman who seems to draw him in closer every day. An impossible task at school is thrown at Elizabeth and she hurts herself trying to accomplish it. But when the two of them join forces, it's a reckoning.

Beth holds the bourbon glass, her hands still shaking slightly, but the chill from the ice helps. She rotates the drink, hearing the little ice cubes clinking against the glass. She wants to look up at him, the way they are seated in the booth makes this look like some sort of twisted matchmaking session, but she’s also afraid of what she’ll see in those dark eyes.

_ He killed someone _ . The red of the blood staining the concrete floors of the storage space still burning in the corners of her mind. But what truly scares her is how she isn’t the slightest bit afraid of him, of what he’s capable of. She thinks that she’s finally found the birth defect her mother had caused seeing how much she’d drunk throughout both her pregnancies -  _ a blatant disregard for danger _ .  _ Or rather, an immunity to the fear caused by handsome, dangerous criminals.  _

It’s not that she’s intrepid. Oh far from it. The thought of that woman pointing a gun at her head still sends her gut twisting in nausea. But her backbone’s way too stiff for her to outwardly show it. She’s so used to compartmentalising. To putting up a brave front, that even now, her entire being is committed to doing that.

She remembers the time she’d had to work late at the gas station and ended up missing the last bus home. How some homeless guy had thought she’d be an easy target for cash, wielding a knife at her and threatening to slit her throat. She’d been so fucking scared that every bone in her body was shaking, but even then, she couldn’t back down. She only had fifty dollars in her purse, but it was fifty dollars she couldn’t lose to a dumbass robbery. So she’d thrown her whole body against him and then gotten on her feet and ran away.  _ Zero self preservation skills _ , Annie and Ruby had told her back then. Seems like she hasn’t gotten any better since.

“Whatchu’ thinkin about?” He breaks her reverie and she scowls - a wildly inappropriate response to someone who had just minutes ago, killed a person. He smirks and she scowls more.

“I was just wondering who that woman was.” Her answer cracks him up, the laughter loud in the little booth, his head thrown back from the effort and even the little laugh lines around his eyes make a rare appearance.

Of all the things she’s witnessed tonight, she’s most concerned about who he’s banging? She’s a fucking enigma and Rio loves that. Loves that she doesn’t back down when there’s a gun to her head, and loves that she’d just witnessed him kill someone, but she doesn’t move an inch when he scoots closer to her, their thighs touching. 

“That’s what you wanna know?” He’s stopped laughing now, his voice low and deep, his lips too close to her face for comfort. She squirms a little in her seat, but she’s not backing down. Looking at him, she nods her head in affirmation.

“We work together.” The answer is crisp and basically provides zero new insight into who he is and what she means to him. So she pushes.

“That’s all? And what kind of  _ work _ does she do? Cos I haven’t seen her here before.” It’s his turn to scowl now, his jaw tightening in response.

“You know what kind of work we do. You just saw it. And when people don’t deliver, or when they betray me…” He trails off and Elizabeth winces a little. It’s more of a warning for her than anything else. And even though she’s not intending to breathe a word about what she saw in here tonight to anyone (maybe except to Ruby and Annie), the threat still hangs uncomfortably around her.

“So if I tell anyone about what I saw, you’ll kill me too?” She’s curt. Straight to the point. There’s no point avoiding the question considering how that woman had been so quick to pull out her gun just now. She’s wondering why he stopped her from putting a bullet in her head, the carpet excuse was such bullshit.

He shifts a little, putting some space between them as he drops his chin into the cradle of his palm, elbow propped on the table.

“That’s just how things work…” An anger burns inside her. Somehow this feels worse than when she had a gun to the head. To know that she’s just like anyone else to him, that he won’t even bother convincing her to keep her mouth shut. Just throw out a couple of threats and kill her if she misbehaves.

“Well, if that’s the case, I get your message loud and clear. You can leave now and proceed with whatever nightly activities you’ve got planned with her.” Her tone is sarcastic and it’s weird how she still has the balls to be snarky with him when he just threatened to kill her.  _ Zero self preservation instincts. _

“Why are you so concerned about my plans for the rest of the evening huh?” Rio isn’t too pleased at the fact that she just tried to dismiss him from his own club. But the way she’s so hung up on Sophia and what they’ve gotten between them just makes him want to rile her up. He’s actually not too concerned about her ratting on him anyway, since the evidence is being taken care of right now and it’s her word against his. 

“I’m not concerned at all.” She huffs out, her arms crossing in front of her chest defensively.

“Is that right?” He loves it when she’s like this, all brick and stone on the outside, yet hiding a world of emotion beneath. It just makes the journey of getting behind that wall so much more gratifying.

He lifts his pinky finger to curl a strand of hair away from her face, even though it’s not in the way. He then traces her jaw down to her neck and clavicle, intrigued as the goosebumps blossom in his path, her flush blooming.

“What do you want, Elizabeth.” His voice is low and curls in the pit of her belly, sending a warmth that spreads out in her core. She thinks of the way he looked at her during her audition, about the way his eyes pooled with lust when he watched her at her debut. Her mind conjures up images of the golden gun in his hands, the power they held, the destruction they’ve caused. She thinks of the red heeled woman who had run her finger along his chest and pressed a gun to her head.

Even then, she wants him. So badly that her chest aches with the need to touch him, to have him touch her. Her eyes flicker to his lips and she inches closer out of her own volition, their lips brushing just the barest, both their breaths coming out in jagged little pants. She wants to tell him, the words almost bursting forth from her, but there’s so much she doesn’t know. And as much as she wants to surrender herself, she knows that if she submits in this moment, she’ll be lost in those black eyes forever. 

“I want to go home now.” 

She can feel her heart crack open the moment the words leave her lips and she has to turn away so he doesn’t see the tears shining in her eyes. She doesn’t want to leave, but this day has been too much. If she doesn’t walk away now, she’s afraid she’ll never be able to walk away from him again. She’s wasted all her energy trying to steel herself the entire night, that the weight of being held at gunpoint, from watching someone die seems to come crashing down on her all of a sudden. She lets her head hang low as she steadies her breathing.

“Come on, I’ll take you.” 

She feels like a kid sitting next to him, still dressed in his t-shirt and sweatpants from the morning. Closing her eyes, she presses her forehead against the windows, letting the cool air soothe all her thoughts. The past twenty four hours have been insane and she feels like her emotions are struggling to catch up.

_ He killed someone.  _ She's waiting for the horror of that to sink in, for her to recoil from it. But it doesn't come. It's not that she lacks a moral code, or that she doesn't care about people dying. It's just that…real life sucks. And she's been through enough to know that even though she wants to believe there's a clear divide between good and bad, right and wrong, she's stuck too deep in the grey areas herself. How many times had she knicked something from the grocery shop just to keep Annie and her going? And the desperation of needing money to provide? It's what drove her to the club anyway. So even though she knows he's dangerous and he's way further from that grey line she's toeing, she gets it. 

They are mostly silent, but when he notices her picking at her the skin on her wrist, he places his large hands on top of hers. They’re warm and soothing, and despite everything that has transpired between them, they ground her.

He pulls up to her apartment complex and steps right out after she does. She’s mildly embarrassed at where she lives, but it’s better than being homeless. She hesitates, leaning back against the car as he closes in on her. Bending down, he leaves a chaste kiss on her forehead and she leans into it despite herself.

“What are we doing?” She asks him, her walls down now, searching for a piece of honesty.

“Feels right.” He hums, content to be here, outside a rundown building in a dingy neighbourhood. She nods, then pushes him out of her way as she takes a few strides before reaching the gate. Looking back, she sees him watching her, still leaning against his car, beanie pulled low so it’s covering his ears. She feels her heart constrict, for what feels like the upteenth time today and then disappears up the stairs to her apartment. 

-

Elizabeth wakes up to the sound of clattering bowls and she cringes. Her sleep has been punctuated by dreams that she can’t make sense of. She won’t go as far as calling them nightmares, but they...disturb her. It’s been four days since and even though she hasn’t gone back to the club, calling in sick, she still remembers the exact splatter the blood had made, even though they never appear when she’s asleep. Rubbing her eyes, she shakes off the fatigue and finds Annie in the kitchen, putting together a sandwich with...sliced cheese and ice cream?

“Yuck, Annie, seriously? That’s what you’re eating in the morning?” Annie grins at her, taking a huge bite out of the monstrosity she’s having for breakfast.

“It’s the only thing I'm eating from now on. I discovered this magical pairing a few days ago and it’s been the only thing I’ve been  _ craving _ for.” Elizabeth laughs at that, her sister is so weird.

Her stomach growls in defiance despite the unappetizing spread Annie has set up, but she resists the urge to reach out for cereal. Instead, opting to brew herself a strong cup of coffee. Coffee has zero calories, she reminds herself, and she’s got to lose 10 pounds by the end of the semester if she wants to pass her dance class.

Apparently, Natalie’s convinced that Elizabeth’s inability to dance like a normal person stems from the fact that she’s too heavy, so she’s tweaked the rubrics on Beth’s assessment, clocking her weight loss instead. And if she doesn’t lose enough, she’ll fail her. Beth had been so angry, she marched right into the Dean’s office, only to be chastised for trying to alter curriculum and sowing discord amongst teaching staff.

Sighing, she places the ice cream and cheese back in the fridge, before smoothing out her clothes, hands running along the curves of her body. Despite the extra workouts she’s been getting from dancing at the club, she’s not any lighter.  _ Muscle is heavier than fat, Beth.  _ Ruby had consoled her, but muscle won’t help her pass her dance module.

Annie laugh-snorts at a text message, probably from Greg, which reminds Beth to check on her own cell phone as well. Pulling it out, she sees a new message from Rio.

_ Late night at the bar, wish you were dancing. _

She smiles to herself. They’ve been texting recently and it feels...normal. And nice. It’s usually just the mundane things, what he's having for lunch, how her classes went, but mundane is good, considering how their entire relationship had started out. 

_ Sounds like you missed me. I'll be there tonight.  _

It's not an invitation by any length, but she does want to see him. Her heart does a tiny somersault as she puts her phone back in her pocket. Her stomach growls again and she groans, taking some antacids to stop the acid build up. She does have to go through an English class and Natalie's hell routine before she makes it for her shift tonight, so she drops an apple into her tote as a last resort.

-

"Beth, honey, at the rate you're going, I'll be seeing you again next Semester." She hates Natalie's voice. Fucking hates it. The words burning like bleach in her ears and making her vision burn red. Continuing with her perfect pirouettes, Elizabeth tunes her out and instead focuses on the way her muscles burn from performing the demanding routine. The sweat is making her hair cling to her face and between the hunger, the bad nights and this fucking ballet move she's been repeating the past hour, her patience is wearing thin. 

"Higher, higher! Come on, Elizabeth, your thighs too heavy for you to lift?" Beth kicks her legs as high as she can, refusing to back down, but it backfires on her when she loses her footing, falling to the floor as Natalie let's out a loud scoff. She can feel the eyes of all her classmates on her and she knows her face is beet red. Unbeknownst to them, it's only partly from shame and mostly from anger. 

There’s a sharp pain in her foot and she rotates it, thankful that it's not her ankle so she knows it's probably just a tendon or ligament she's pulled. Getting onto her feet, she looks her instructor in the eye, barely concealed rage leaking from her every pore. 

"Back off."

Beth doesn't know what outcome she's looking for, only that she's taken enough of Natalie's bullshit the entire semester to not push back, but the flash of shock she sees in her eyes before she recollects her snake like demeanor surprises her.

Huffing out what she seems to be a mix of resignation and indignance, Beth leaves the dance floor and collects her belongings. There's still fifteen minutes of class left, but she can't give a fuck about what anyone else thinks. She'd almost gone crazy on her dance instructor and if she doesn't step out of the room right now, she's positive she'll blow her top. Plus, if there's any complaint, she'll just say she fell and broke her foot. Which wouldn't be a lie, considering how she's limping slightly and there's a huge purple bruise starting to spread above her toes. 

She hates how she has no connections. No strings to pull and no cash to grease greedy palms. Natalie is strict on everyone but she eases up on the students Beth  _ knows _ has rich and powerful parents with connections and donations that help build half the school. It's how the real world works, but it still stings.

The apple she's chewing on does nothing to satiate the hunger growing in her belly. She should be used to it by now, considering how Annie and her never really had their stomachs full until recently. But how do you ignore a constant gnawing in your gut? It's a cosmic joke, really. Now that she has enough cash to put food on the table, she can't eat it because she's being bullied into starving herself. 

Stepping out of the car, she briefly feels the world spin around her as she rises too quick. Placing a palm against her door, she closes her eyes and steadies herself. 

"You ok?" She recognizes that voice. So even though she's not too firm on her feet yet, she opens her eyes to meet his. 

She looks pale. That's the first thing he clocks when he sees her. Other than that, she still looks amazing, hair in a ponytail and dressed in a leotard and leggings. It's only been a few days since they met, but the way he yearns for her makes the days feel much longer. 

"Fancy meeting you here again." Her tone is teasing, playful even. And once again, he's struck by how fearless she is, even after everything she's witnessed him to be capable of. 

"Feelin' better?" He knows she hadn't been truly ill, but he wonders about how she's coping with the aftermath of dipping her toes into his life. 

"Hungry, but otherwise I'm good." She shows him the leftover core of the apple she'd been snacking on and he laughs. She's truly one of the most surprising characters he's ever met. 

She begins to walk towards the club but there's a slight limp in her stride that makes him curious. 

"You hurt?" It's supposed to come out as a casual question but he hears his own voice tinge with concern.

"Fell in dance class. No big deal. My instructor's a fucking bitch tho." She scowls at that and Rio has to fight the urge to laugh again. They're almost in the club now and he's got a reputation to maintain, even though he's pretty sure most of them are already talking about his interest in her. 

"Take it easy yeah? Tell Ethan if you won't be able to dance tonight." 

"I'll be fine. Who's gonna make you money if your best dancer isn't on stage?" She smirks at him before twirling in a circle just to prove just how fine she is, before regretting it when her vision starts to blur again. 

He instantly reaches out to steady her, brows furrowed in displeasure. 

"You sure you're good?" The worry is thick in his voice right now, basically dripping with it and Beth feels the urge to pull away. She can handle herself. 

"I'm good. Just gotta get one of those energy drinks before I go." She removes herself from his hold when she realises some of the staff staring and then waves a quick goodbye before heading into the changing room.

_ Welcome to the jungle, we've got fun and games _

_ We got everything you want honey, we know the names _

Stepping onto the stage, she’s still amazed by the amount of power she holds when she’s dressed up as someone completely different. Her dress is red tonight, studded with crystals and with a thigh slit high enough her lace panties peek through. It feels like once she’s here, she’s in a whole different kind of world.

_ We are the people that can find whatever you may need _

_ If you got the money, honey we got your disease _

The attention she commands as she feels every single pair of eyes on her in the room, it thrills her. Yet, it’s always that one pair of dark brown eyes she seeks out every single time. Sometimes, she feels that it’s always when she’s dancing that she’s her most honest self. She plays this game of tug with him, always wondering how far he can reel him in before he breaks.

_ Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day _

_ If you want it you're gonna bleed but it's the price to pay _

The look on his face disarms her. He’s not playing the game with her tonight. Instead, he’s assessing her, taking in her every move, making sure she’s alright. She remembers the bruise on her leg and the sharp pain dulled by the adrenaline and realises in that moment, that  _ he cares. _

_ If you got hunger for what you see, you'll take it eventually _

_ You can have everything you want but you better not take it from me _

He’s keeping his eyes on her like a predator. Something just isn’t right and he needs to know what, even if it means having to crack through her shell that’s tough as shit, like a fuckin’ walnut. Rio’s watched her enough times to know that she’s holding back a little as she flits across the stage, her legs not pointing straight enough when she does her little stretch, and he can tell her head ain’t straight from the way she stumbles just the slightest after she does a twirl.

_ Down the jungle, welcome to the jungle _

_ Watch it bring you to you _

_ It's gonna bring you down, huh _

She pales considerably towards the end of the song, he can tell even through the bright red lipstick and the rouge on her face, because he’s committed every inch of her skin to his memory. He’s out of his seat before the song even ends, heading straight for the backstage.

Elizabeth feigns a little giggle and bows slightly even though she can see the darkness seep through the corners of her vision. She grits her teeth through her smile and holds up her head high as she counts the steps between the stage and her refuge behind the curtains.

_ One. Fuck Beth, you can do this. Don’t faint now. _

_ Two, three, four. Why the fuck do they call it energy drinks when they barely give you enough energy and you’re crashing face first into the floor? _

_ Five, six, seven. Fuck you Natalie and that stupid useless apple! _

She feels his arms instead of seeing him, because by then, her sight consists of nothing but darkness and a few flashes of white spots. There’s a small crowd around her and somehow she’s thankful she can’t open her eyes because she can’t deal with the drama right now. Someone pricks her finger and she yelps slightly, wanting to punch that idiot, but she can’t find the energy to do so, so she gives up and falls asleep to the smell of cedar and sandalwood.

-

“You on some kind of crazy diet?” She’s barely regained consciousness when Rio’s interrogating her. He shoves some sort of a packet nutritional shake into her hands and motions for her to start drinking.

“What? No!” It comes out less forceful than she likes, her throat feeling like sandpaper.

“Oh yeah? Ethan tested your blood sugar. Ain’t the first time someone’s fainted in here because they thought a stalk of celery constitutes a full meal.” His tone is sarcastic and judgemental and it’s the last thing Elizabeth needs from anyone right now, much less from him. She pushes the blanket off of her and tries to get up on her feet, but God! When will she stop feeling dizzy from simply standing up?

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not like them!” 

“Oh yeah, then why you tryna starve yourself then huh?” She bites her lip in anger, trying to stop the words from spilling out, from throwing herself a pity party.

“Tell me, Elizabeth. Cos we both know you look good enough to eat.” Beth looks up at him and the sharpness in his gaze has softened out at the edges. Somehow this is worse than being interrogated, because she knows she’s gonna crack.

“It’s...it’s school ok? I’m gonna fail my dance module if I don’t lose ten pounds by the end of next month.” She feels the mortification envelope her whole and she wishes she could die right now because here she is, bitching about class to a grown ass man who kills people for a living.

He sighs, lowering his shoulders slightly, before lifting her legs and sitting down next to her on the couch.

“Elaborate.” And so she does, telling him about Natalie, the rich kids and their free pass at school, how she wishes she could quit, but it’s the only school she can afford, and that’s only cos of her scholarship. How she just wants a degree, any degree so she can make sure her little sister doesn’t go through the same thing she does. She tells him about her mother, even though she leaves out the part about her alcohol abuse and even lets slip about how she’s come to be so uptight about money. She’s so tired about having to look up and see the million privileged people above her, hoping that one day her family will be one of them.

By the end of it, she’s tired and he’s massaging tiny little circles on her injured foot while listening to her and it just feels good telling someone about this, about all her worries and fears, without having to feel like she’s doing less than enough. She leans her head on his shoulder and it feels so right, and yet at the same time feels like it’s not enough. Tilting her head up, she inches forward so they’re almost at eye level and this time, it is an invitation, but she’s not waiting for his answer.

Elizabeth presses her lips against his and feels him push back against her. It feels as good as she remembers, the softness of it, the friction from his scruff. It feels even better now that she knows more about him and him a little more about her, as if it had cracked open the windows, revealing light. She moans into his mouth a little louder than necessary and slips her palms under his shirt, feeling them warm up her skin.

“Fuck, if you keep that up, I’m not gonna be able to stop myself.” Rio purrs as Elizabeth lowers her fingers to the button of jeans, swiftly popping it open and sliding a hand down inside. She watches as his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud groan as she grasps his hardness in her fist, his arousal thick and hard.

He lifts his hips a little so she can shove his jeans down, his cock popping out of them, and she can’t take her eyes off it. It’s fucking gorgeous, which is weird, considering how she’d never found any penis particularly pretty before. But he’s big and uncut, the head peeking out with a bead of precum glistening at the top of it and she licks her lips involuntarily. He grins, before shoving her dress up so they pool along her hips, then swiping her underwear aside and running his fingers along her folds.

She’s wet. So wet for him that it makes her dizzy with want, she lets out a long moan when she feels his fingers enter her, but just barely.

“Darlin, the entire club’s gonna hear you.” The last thing he wants is to quieten her, but they’re still in his office and he’s sure his entire crew’s just dying to know what hold she’s got over him. The answer is everything, she’s got him wrapped around her little finger, but for everyone to know that? It’s dangerous. Especially for her.

She’s letting out little whimpers now, her head thrown back in pleasure as she straddles his lap and he can feel his cock throbbing against the smooth skin of her belly. He’d wanted her the first time he met her, when she danced at her audition. But feeling her right now? At the tips of his fingers, her breasts in his face, her entire being in surrender, it feels a thousand times better than he had ever imagined.

He should have known she isn’t one to just sit back and wait, because he’s barely gotten two fingers into her before she’s shoving his hands aside and positioning him at her warm wet center.

“I want you.” Her tone is so demanding, so certain that it makes his cock twitch in response as she sinks down on him in one fluid motion. They both groan at the sensation then his mouth is on hers as she stills against him, trying to get accustomed to having him inside her. 

“Fuck, Elizabeth. You feel so fucking good.” She’s found a rhythm now and he’s trying his best to let her set the pace, to not thrust into her, but it’s taking every inch of his self control to resist her. She leans into him, her clothed breasts pressing against his chest and her breathy moans echoing in his ears. He wishes they had more time, a less frenzied pace, so he can see every inch of her body and devote himself to worshipping her, but even now, he’s mesmerised by everything she has to offer.

“Oh god, Rio. More.” She rocks against him frenzied and her mouth hanging agape, chasing a high that seems to lie just out of reach. But he’s determined to bring her there. In one swift motion, he flips them around so she’s laying back on the couch and then he’s slipping into her again, fucking her with deep thursts.

“Yes, just like that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She’s so fucking loud and so wet that all he’s hearing is the sound of her moans and the obscene noises from how hard he’s fucking into her. He brings a thumb up to rub against her clit and she’s letting out of those desperate noises, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. He knows she’s close, she’s getting so wet that she’s practically dripping onto the sofa and her words are no longer decipherable, just a mixture of  _ please  _ and  _ don’t stop _ .

He bends down to yank at the neckline of her dress, revealing a pebbled pink nipple which he greedily sucks into his mouth. Then, he bites on it, hard enough to send a shock of pleasure coursing through her body and just like that, she unravels underneath him, her pussy clenching on his cock. She shudders from the intensity of her orgasm, holding him in a vice grip that pushes him over the edge as he empties himself inside of her. She moans as he thrusts into a few more times, prolonging his own orgasm and dragging hers out, her fingers running along his back as she sighs contentedly.

“You’re so good Mami” He’s collapsed in a heap on top of her, head pillowed on her soft breasts. Between the fucking and his orgasm, he needs a minute to catch his breath. But then he suddenly remembers her foot and her lack of sustenance and he extricates himself from her almost too quickly.

“You ok? Did I hurt you?” She giggles in response and it’s adorable, even though she really does need improvement when it comes to taking care of herself.

“Who knew nutritional shakes give you more energy than energy drinks?” She pulls her dress up to cover herself and then cups his jaw in her palm, the action surprises Rio a little, tugging at his heartstrings. 

“I’m fine. Thank you for looking out for me.” Elizabeth bends over to peck him on the lips and it’s too quick for his liking, so he pulls her in and kisses her slow and long.

“I’ll take care of it.” She’s confused for a moment, then realises he’s talking about her school...and Natalie.

“Rio...I don’t...I mean I can handle it myself.” She’s much softer around the edges after he gets through her tough shell, her words coming out like a request almost, instead of immediately pushing him away like she’d been doing before. Nothing like a walnut, more like prickly pear. Thorny on the outside, soft on sweet within. 

“Yeah? You gonna starve yourself till you lose ten pounds?” He’s not trying to be sarcastic, but he’s so used to getting his way that it comes out a little harsher than intended. Biting on his lip, he reigns in his frustration.

“You gotta let someone take care of you sometime you know? Besides, you ain’t doing such a good job yourself.” He motions to her bruised foot and the shake carton set on the floor and Elizabeth huffs in indignance.

“Fine, but we’re doing this my way. With a tiny bit of your help. Everything goes through me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest and Rio has to stifle his laughter. Ethan’s told him that they’d have to make her look slightly older with makeup and clothes so she fits better into the retro theme, but the pout she’s wearing on her face right now and her childlike demeanor makes the juxtaposition almost comical. 

“Right right. You’re the Boss Bitch.” He smirks and she nods at him triumphantly, before throwing herself into his arms and laughing. The sound smug and carefree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some trouble writing this, constantly feeling like it's not good enough, or not being happy with what I've written. But I was reminded on Tumblr that writing a fic should first and foremost, be fun for the writer. So I threw those emotions out and just...had fun. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! As usual, comments are like nutritional shakes for fic writers and I greatly appreciate it!
> 
> If you were wondering, the song Elizabeth dances to is "Welcome To The Jungle" by Guns 'n Roses, but the version I wrote to is this one PostmoderJukebox on Youtube! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjt-aYQO5zA


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth impresses Rio when she doesn't have to resort to violence and succeeds in getting Natalie to bend to her will. But then, Annie shares some news that sends Beth spiralling in desperation again.

Finding a way to manipulate Natalie so she’d bend to her will was harder than she’d thought. Rio had suggested getting his boys to rough her up a little, scare her into backing off, but Beth had rejected that idea instantly.

Firstly, she didn’t need the school to know that she was affiliated to a mafia boss (or criminal kingpin, she wasn’t exactly sure). And secondly, she was worried that Natalie would call the cops on them and even though she doesn’t have a close relationship with Rio’s boys, she knows that he treats them like family and she doesn’t want to get them into any trouble.

She’d settled on borrowing some of them to run some and also going on some stakeout sessions herself. Her theory was that everyone had weaknesses. And if she followed Natalie around enough, she’d soon be able to find them and make them work to her benefit.

The first time Elizabeth attempted to stalk her, she’d put on some ridiculously large sunglasses, a baseball hat and hopped into her olive green Nissan. She’d made sure to park across the street, instead of directly in front of her house, discreetly watching through her untinted windows. Two hours into her watch, Rio had knocked on her window and guffawed loudly at her getup, calling her the  _ world’s worst private investigator. _ She’d swatted his hand away when he tried to lift up her chin and kiss away her pout but conceded to letting his boys do the stalking instead. There was no way she was paying to get her windows tinted just for this. 

-

“God, it’s been a week! And nothing!” Elizabeth throws her hands up in frustration, letting herself collapse onto the couch way harder than she should, the piece of furniture creaking under the force of her body.

Rio lets out a tiny laugh from behind his desk, still shuffling papers around and ignoring her pacing for the past half and hour. They’re supposed to meet the boys here tonight for updates and she’s just done with her segment on stage.

“If you listened and let me handle it, it’d be done by now.” He throws out into the room, ignoring the dirty look she throws at him.

She busies herself by removing her makeup, making a mess of the coffee table with all the lotions and creams she’s brought in. She should really have done this in the changing room, but she wants to be here when Mick comes in. The girls have been giving her awkward sideward glances when they think she isn’t looking, and Elaine has been filling her up with all the gossip that’s been going on and well...it isn’t all just lies and baseless accusations. The entire club had heard it when she and Rio...she doesn’t want to think about it. It’ll pass eventually and who knows how long this thing she has with Rio will last anyway?

“Yo boss.” Mick walks into the office after a brief knock and Elizabeth perks up from the sofa like a puppy, her eyes wide with anticipation, hopeful that he brings good news.

“Whatchu got?” Rio finally puts down the documents he has in his hands and sits on top of his desk, one leg swinging in front of it. Mick sets down a little envelope and Beth immediately rushes towards the both of them, eager to get her hands on her ammunition.

“Turns out she’s got a habit.” Out from the folder slips a couple of photos of Natalie in some sort of exchange with a few men. 

"It's Oxy. And other stuff sometimes." She fans out the images in her hand and thanks Mick who just gives her a subtle nod before exiting the room. Turns out, everyone does have a dirty little secret. And Beth can certainly use this to her benefit. 

-

She shows up for class thirty minutes early, hoping to catch Natalie in the teacher's lounge, but luck's on her side when she spots a blonde ponytail and loud music coming from the studio. 

She's alone too. Perfect. As Beth enters the room, Natalie doesn't even spare her a glance as she perfectly executes a complex dance sequence. 

"I need to talk to you." Beth walks up to the stereo and turns down the volume. Natalie stops dancing, the beautiful routine coming to an end. Beth actually thinks that it's a pity she couldn't catch the entirety of it. She might be a huge bitch, but Natalie sure can dance. 

"The nerve of you to walk in here and interrupt -" Before she can finish, Beth throws the photos she has on the desk and crosses her arms. She watches as Natalie's mouth gapes open, the words she wanted to say caught in her throat, a quiet gasp escaping instead. 

"How… What…" Beth smirks. It's nice to be on the other side of this exchange for once. 

"I have my ways. And if you don't want anyone else to know, you're going to remove that ridiculous weight loss criteria from my finals. " Checkmate. Beth mentally pats herself on her back while she pulls the photos back into her grasp, safely depositing them into her bag. 

Natalie's definitely taken aback, but she holds her ground and Beth respects that. She doesn't have anything against her, just wants to be treated fairly. And if this is what it takes, then she's willing to do it. 

"You think the people on the school board don't have secrets too? Oh, darling, they know. They know all about my little habit. But they ignore it because I bring in the rich kids with even richer parents." She's regained her composure, quicker than Beth's expected and her mind reels. She's shown her hand and if this doesn't work, she's back to chewing down on apples for the rest of the month. Even then, she's too late in the semester to lose that much weight, she might as well go for a liposuction. 

Elizabeth shakes those thoughts away. There must be something else Natalie cares about. If not about her reputation with the board…then… 

"Oh, I'm not talking about the school. You got a habit right? Well, it sure would suck if you've got to quit it." An addict will always be an addict. And they'll suffer the most when you take away what they're addicted to. 

Natalie scoffs. "I don't think you got that kind of influence, Beth." 

And she's right. Elizabeth's not sure if she'll be able to get Rio to pull this off. After all, she's not even sure where his influence starts and ends, barely has an inkling of what his business entails. But she's too far gone into this bluffing game to back down, so she raises a brow and gives Natalie a steely look. 

"How do you think I got these pictures? Oh I may not have the influence, but I have very influential friends." At that, Natalie's eyes widen with the realisation that perhaps Beth could really pull this off, stop her supply, make sure she never lays a hand on a single pill again. 

She's not about to risk it just to make a student's life miserable. She can always pick on someone less…feisty.

"Fine. I'll revert your rubrics." Beth smirks smugly, her back relaxing slightly from the relief of having pulled this off. 

"Great to hear, I'll leave you to your practice then. See you in a couple of minutes, Natalie." 

-

"and then you what? Threatened to cut her off?" Rio guffaws in delight, his hands slapping against his knee as Beth huffs out a breath that sends some stray strands of her hair lifting into flight. 

"Oh sweetheart, you're impossible." He catches his breath again and gives her a look that makes her heart swell. He's  _ impressed.  _

"You could pull it off though…couldn't you? She asks. It isn't the first time she's asking about his business, and she's expecting that he avoids the question again, but if she impressed him that much, maybe he'd be incentivised to share? 

"Probably, would have cost me money though." He leans back against his chair, arms crossed in front of him.

"I'm sure it wouldn't have made a dent in your earnings...but good to know you'll be able to materialise my threat if I ever needed it." She throws back at him before moving around his table so she's closer now. 

"Yeah? Then you'd owe me." He drawls out lowly as he yanks on her hand so she stumbles into him, positioned right between his legs. 

"I'm good for it. Besides, I'm already working for you." She gestures to the dance floor outside, making no move to escape the cage he's created for her. 

Bending down, she kisses him, suddenly thankful that he'd pushed her in the direction of fixing her problems, even though she couldn't have done it without his help. A tiny bit of his help, but help nonetheless. 

"Thank you." A flush creeps up her cheeks as soon as the words escape her mouth. She isn't used to asking for favours, let alone accepting them and then being gratitudinous after. 

"Nah, it was all you." She feels a sense of pride bloom in her chest. He's right, even though he'd lent her some muscle, the entire plan had been hers. And he'd managed to help her achieve her goal without making her feel small or weak. Instead she felt powerful and capable, a feeling she's almost never felt before. And she wonders, if like Natalie, she's beginning to develop an addiction she won't be able to kick. 

-

She’s still sticky from her dance class and stewing in an Art History tutorial after that all she wants to do is get home and bathe before she needs to head to the club. This seems to be her life now, rushing between school, a brief glimpse of her sister at home, then heading to work. At least Annie’s doing a decent job at keeping herself alive. Her phone rings just as she’s walking out of the school gates.

“Beth! Beth…” Annie’s voice blasts through the receiver on her phone and Beth’s blood runs cold. Instead of the usual pushy tone, she hears fear in her sister’s voice and a shakiness that reverberates through the whining of her name.

“What happened Annie, where are you? Are you ok?” The questions come out faster than her brain can process them. Had Natalie retaliated, found out that Annie was her only family and her biggest weakness? Did she also have friends in influential places? Had Annie been taken?

“Beth...I’m pregnant.” There’s a pause at the end of the line and Elizabeth feels all the air leave her lungs. Her mind going through the thousand and one scenarios in her head. Her sister, in high school, unmarried and pregnant when they barely have enough to cover all the expenses in their lives. She thinks about the diapers, the formula, the inoculation shots and the gynae visits, her world spinning out of her control again, just as she thought she’d held it in her firm grasp.

It hits her then, that the ice cream with cheese, the cravings and the quippy attitude Annie’s been giving her. How did she not notice? 

“Is it Greg’s?” There’s a noncommittal hum from the other end of the line and Beth can hear Annie sniffing. Her heart breaks, and she wonders if she could have prevented this if she’d been less prudish about talking to Annie about sex and protection. Wonders if this is all just a horrible dream.

“I’m coming home right now. You stay there alright? And get Greg to come over too.” She clicks and ends the call, straightening her back and wiping away the tears from her eyes. 

-

At twenty six, Elizabeth Marks feels out of place in college, far older than most of her peers. Even though most of them don’t know she started school late, she feels it when they discuss their high school achievements as if they just happened yesterday, when it’s almost been a decade ago for her. 

But as much as she feels out of place in school, she feels worse right here, right now, standing in front of her eighteen year old sister and her boyfriend, seated on the couch. Greg’s holding on to Annie’s hand and Beth’s heart cracks a little for them. At least he’s still here and not somewhere hiding in denial. Annie’s eyes are swollen and puffy, red rings forming around the blues and Beth thinks about her with a tiny infant in her arms, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

“The both of you made a mistake.” Elizabeth begins her grand speech...for a moment, Greg looks like he wants to interrupt, to deliver some sort of romantic soliloquy about loving Annie being the best mistake of his life, but Beth shuts him up with a glare and a wave of her hand. 

“I don’t care how in love you two are, but having a baby when you’re eighteen and still in high school is an accident.” She sucks in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, watching as Annie noticeably shrinks into the couch in shame. God, they both look so young, tiny even in their small sofa, eyes wide with fear and Beth wishes she could take it all away.

“But now, more importantly, you have a decision to make.” There’s a heaviness that lingers in the air and even though nobody speaks, all three of them know that it’s going to be difficult, whatever choice they make.

Greg speaks up first. “We’ve talked about it...and we’d like to keep it.” Annie lets out a tiny whimper at that and her hands fly to her stomach protectively. Elizabeth closes her eyes and lets the weight of the decision sink in, latch itself to her bones and feels it drag her down into a pit of darkness.

She hadn’t imagined them to decide otherwise, the two of them too in love to kill something that’s made from pieces of them both, accident or not. But the reality of the situation still crashes down on her and swallows her whole. Even though they are the ones becoming parents, Beth knows with utmost clarity that she will be the one providing for her future niece or nephew, the same way she’d cared and provided for Annie all her life. 

“Well, since you’ve made the decision, as the adult in this room, I want to say that Annie, I love you very very much, and I will stand by your choices whatever they may be.” Annie leaps from the couch and holds Beth in a hug, the tears exploding from her small body. And Beth does what she always does, she holds her little sister in her arms and runs her hand along her back, because even if she has to fall apart to keep Annie together, she’ll do it. She’ll always do it, a million times over.

-

They’d sat down together, the four of them, after being joined by Ruby who’d been summoned for her experience with Sarah, and picked out a gynae for Annie. One that wouldn’t cost too much, but still good enough so Beth felt like her sister was in good hands.

Despite the lightness in the small apartment, the voices bright and joyful - Ruby hoping it’s a girl so she’ll be able to pass all of Sarah’s old clothes over, Greg and Annie arguing about whether they should see a male or female gynae, Elizabeth feels and sees the darkness in the corners, bleeding into her vision. She smiles though, she’s had years of practice doing this, even though in her head, she’s adding up the various costs of having this baby and then figuring out how she’ll get the money.

She leaves the trio to it when the sun begins to set, preparing herself for her night at the club. Locking herself in the bathroom, she slides down onto the cold tiled floor and curls herself into a ball, hoping that if she tried hard enough, she’d be able to crush the sense of dread and suffocation that’s rapidly expanding in her chest. For awhile, after Elaine had gotten her the job at the club, she’d felt nothing but lightness, as if someone had lit a torch in her chest and the creeping sense of desperation and darkness had retreated, even if it was just a little. But now? It’s like she’s plunged right into the deep end of the pool, it feels like she’s drowning and everywhere she looks, there’s nothing but water, dark and cold, threatening to consume her whole.

She doesn’t cry though. After years of going through this, having to make ends meet from whatever scrapes life throws her, she knows her tears are worthless, that even if she manages to fill a tub worth of them, they don’t make her life any easier. Pushing herself off the floor, she looks into the mirror and steels her resolve. Determined blue eyes stare back at her and she promises herself that she will give Annie and the baby everything she can.

-

Ethan’s droning on about her new set list, about wanting to stick with her theme of playing retro vintage songs with a slower beat and a more classy act, but she barely hears a thing, just nodding at the right parts and putting on that ditzy smile they all love. 

She’s thankful that the club’s always open to suggestions when it comes to songs she uses, because she definitely can’t dance to “Tough Lover” or something equally upbeat tonight. But “Seven Nation Army”? That’s a song she loves and has been looking forward to performing. Besides, she’s not Beth right now, definitely not when she steps on the stage. And it’s liberating to be able to transform into someone other than herself once a melody begins to play.

_ I'm gonna fight 'em all _

_ A seven nation army couldn't hold me back _

_ They're gonna rip it off _

_ Taking their time right behind my back _

The spotlight blinds her momentarily when they light up the stage, the dress she has on tonight is plain. A burgundy velvet material that’s almost lacklustre compared to her previous getups that’s always been sparkling with sequins or crystals. But she likes it. Likes the way her hair is curled and pinned up like it always is, and she likes it even more that underneath the somewhat simple garment is a lingerie set that’s more than meets the eye.

_ Don't wanna hear about it _

_ Every single one's got a story to tell _

_ Everyone knows about it _

_ From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell _

As if part of her routine, she scans around the club for Rio. He’s here almost every night she performs and getting his attention is always one of her favourite parts of the performance. She almost scowls when she doesn’t spot him in one of his favourite booths and even after looking through most of the club. Putting on a slight pout that she isn’t sure is part of her routine, she begins to shed her dress and reveals a blood red set of lingerie that’s leaning towards the  _ bondage _ side of things with the amounts of straps it has.  _ Shibari _ , Brad had enlightened her, was what the lingerie set was inspired by. The Japanese art of tight binding or  _ rope play _ . He’d told her that she’d set the audience alight if a good girl like her toed the line of fetishism. And he was right. Every pair of eyes in the audience was transfixed on her, the alabaster skin perfectly contrasting the bright red of every individual strap. Pity the eyes she really wants to see isn’’t here tonight. 

  
  


_ I'm gonna work the straw _

_ Make the sweat drip out of every pore _

_ And I'm bleeding, and I'm bleeding, and I'm bleeding _

_ Right before the Lord _

_ All the words are gonna bleed from me _

_ And I will sing no more _

She’s almost done with her routine, her acts always less risque than the other girls, who often wear far more exposing lingerie than she does, but what she lacks in skin, she tries to make up for in finesse and a little element of quirk. Beth’s about to take her bow when he sees them, the perfect jawline, black eyes lined with lashes too long to be fair, and his arm wrapped around the waist of that woman from that night. She falters, briefly, even though she tries her damndest so it doesn’t show. His eyes are frozen on her form, his jaw slightly slack and he stops in his steps as if hypnotized. And right now, the lingerie set she’d been so proud of, so eager to show off to the one person in her audience, all it does is make her feel exposed.

She clocks the slight scoff on that woman’s face and the quick dismissal of her act with a flick of her wrist and the straps suddenly burn her, like she’s been branded. The disguise of being Joan tonight, the carefree joy she’d just experienced on stage, they leave her like the air being drawn from her lungs and she feels the miserable existence of being  _ just  _ Elizabeth seep under her skin. 

The applause explodes from beneath her, but they feel like the ominous chimes of the clock at midnight. And now, she’s Cinderella, reduced to nothing but rags and pumpkins, clutching desperately at her glass slipper as she exits the stage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story and researching songs that would fit into Beth's dance routines while exploring her POV has been SUCH GREAT FUN! The song used in this chapter is "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes, but if you're trying to get a sense of Beth's performance, I imagined Melanie Martinez's version of it playing in the background while Elizabeth danced.
> 
> Let me know all of your thoughts!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a blackhole in Beth's life that always results in her needing more money. But what will Rio think of her new adventures in the enclosure?

If one could feel like they’re shipwrecked, without actually being out at sea, Beth thinks her life is it. The week after she spots Rio with the woman, who she now knows as _Sophia_ , she goes through the motions of living, without actually doing it. She takes Annie to a gynae, the awkwardness hanging thickly in the air as she witnesses her sister and Greg share a private moment upon spotting the little blip on the ultrasound. She pays for the entire thing in cash, then purchases some prenatal vitamins, even though the doctor had assured them that Annie’s greatest advantage was her youth and that there should be no complications with the pregnancy. Well, Beth doesn’t really consider it an advantage, seeing as to how her sister is pregnant at eighteen, but she nods appreciatively anyway.

Annie and Ruby notice something’s amiss, but they don’t pry. Elizabeth isn’t exactly sure what she’ll tell them if they ask anyway. She’s not sure what’s this thing going on between her and Rio, despite the obvious attraction they share. She’s not sure she wants to know anyway, defining the relationship could go both ways and right now, even though there’s a slight ache in her chest, it’s an ache she can deal with. The ache of uncertainty is easier to bear than the definite sting of rejection.

She busies herself by dancing, both at school and in the club, which to be honest, exhausts her enough so she falls into dreamless sleeps at night. She’s taken up more shifts at the club, even though it’s barely enough considering how she’s about to welcome a child into her life. 

“Why are you dancing so much nowadays? Aren’t you tired with school and all?” Elaine probes after noticing Beth trying to catch a nap at the dressing table before the club opens. Elizabeth groans before pushing herself up from her sprawled state, her elbows propped on the desk, her jaw cradled in the nook of her palms.

“My sister’s pregnant...I need the money.” It comes out simply, honest and without thought. She always found it easy to confide in Elaine, who’d stood by her side through all the gossip and teething phases of dancing at the club.

“You’re gonna burn out.” Elaine states matter of factly while lightly dusting a layer of rouge on her cheeks. She takes a moment to look at Beth, then sets down her brush and takes hold of her hands.

“You know, there’s a way to earn more...those men who show up to watch you dance. Sometimes all they want is to have a meal with you, to get to know you better…” Elizabeth balks at her suggestion, her jaw widening slightly. It reminds her of the time Elaine had suggested she started dancing for _The Deep End_ at that quaint little cafe and a wave of deja vu washes over her.

“I...I’m not sure if I wanna do that.” She doesn’t want it to come out too judgemental. She knows the girls have arrangements with some of their preferred clients, sometimes spending the night with them. She knows Elaine has one of those too, a blonde haired gentleman who only shows up when she’s dancing. Always respectful and gentle, and she knows that he treats her right, from the way Elaine blushes when she talks about him. But it’s a slippery slope…

“They don’t always want to have sex you know. Plus, you don’t have to do it long term. You graduate in about a year right? After that you’re out. It’s just a temporary thing.” Elaine shrugs. The world always seems so simple to her. Got a problem? Here’s a solution. Moral implications be damned.

Beth remains silent, toying with the suggestion in her head.

“Just speak to Ethan, maybe check out your choices. Daniel’s always nice to me.” She blushes at the name of her client and Elizabeth takes the opportunity to tease her about it, effectively steering the conversation away from herself.

-

“Hey Ethan, could I speak with you?” Beth’s just done with her night and she’s slipped back into her sweater and jeans, out of her disguise and back to being herself again.

“Sure, doll. Want a drink?” Elizabeth nods and Ethan pours her a finger of bourbon, she sips at it, the warmth of the drink sliding down her throat and calming her nerves, even if just slightly.

“You know how some of the girls have arrangements with some of the customers? I was wondering if...you know...anyone’s mentioned anything about wanting to spend some time with me? I could kind of use the extra money.” She blushes after she finishes and notices that Ethan looks slightly uncomfortable. She wonders if it’s because nobody had brought up the idea of wanting to spend some time with her, afterall, her stage persona is kind of... _reserved_.

“I mean...if no one has asked about it...that’s fine too. I know I’m new and I don’t show as much skin…” She trails off, then takes another sip of her bourbon, a bigger one this time, trying to chase away the burn of embarrassment with one the alcohol brings.

“It’s not like that Beth. Definitely not. You can probably tell from the amount of flowers you receive that you have quite the list...but…” She waits patiently for him to continue, he seems really uncomfortable now, and she doesn’t think she’s seen Ethan being placed in a spot before.

“You’re with Rio. Do you really think he’d appreciate it if you hung out with anyone else? Look what happened on the night of your debut in the enclosure. Hell, he’d kill me if I set you up with anyone else.” Oh, she hadn’t expected that. And while it’s nice to have someone think that they’re together, even though she doubts that herself, she’s also annoyed that Rio thinks he has a claim over her.

“I don’t belong to him you know.” Her fury is barely contained and the statement comes out harsher than she had intended. Ethan immediately raises both hands in defense as she crosses her arms.

“I just don’t want to step on his toes.” Despite her annoyance, she does understand where he’s coming from. Rio’s his boss. Hell, Rio is more than just a boss. His reluctance to set her up is justified, but it still doesn’t stop the ripples of indignance that spreads through her. She doesn’t belong to him. She doesn’t belong to anyone but herself. 

-

She sucks in her breath as she slips out of her costume into a slightly more modest looking dress. Even though Ethan straight up rejected helping to set her up, that doesn’t mean he can stop her from heading down onto the floor and getting some clients of her own. The thought of it makes her feel uncomfortable, like she’s looking for patrons for...she can’t even complete the thought and shakes it out of her mind. If that’s what she needs to do to provide for her family, then she will sure as hell do it. 

Fluffing up her hair and touching up her lipstick, she spins around in front of the mirror, the action so familiar and brings her back to the first time she did this before her debut. As if summoned, Brad appears in the reflection and she feels her face visibly light up.

“Hello stranger. Where’ve you been recently!” She can barely contain her excitement on seeing Brad as she draws him into a hug. 

“I’ve missed you too. I was out of town for abit, but I’m back now. And you look as gorgeous as ever.” She missed him. The familiar company of someone that’s more family than friend. Plus, now that she knows Brad’s _gay_ , she’s even more comfortable with giving him hugs and kisses on the cheek. It feels nice, knowing that even here, at the club, she’s always got him and Elaine to have her back.

“Thank you. What do you think of the dress? I’m gonna spend some time in the enclosure tonight.” She blushes, then runs her hand through the soft satin fabric unsurely.

“It’s a little conservative for this place, but you look great. Always do. Now go get them tiger!” He smacks her butt a little which has her letting out a little gasp but she giggles after. The good thing about Brad is that he doesn’t pry. So even though going down to the enclosure is something she never does willingly, he knows she’ll open up when the time is right, and for that, she’s thankful.

Being in the enclosure makes Beth feel uncomfortable. It’s not like the men are all over her and demanding her attention. It’s quite the opposite actually. No one seems to notice her and spare her a second glance. Most of the audience is already absorbed in some kind of business dealing or already has their arms wrapped around a luscious body of their choice.

Plus, it’s not like Beth’s the type to throw herself onto the lap of any man just to get their attention. So by the half hour mark, she’s twiddling her thumbs and feeling grossly out of place. She settles at the corner of the bar, right next to the band, where a few of them nod at her in acknowledgement. The showcase is over for tonight, so the band’s taken to playing some light jazz which she thoroughly appreciates. The soft beats of the music and the bourbon she has in her hands helping her to relax. She might not have achieved the goal she set out to accomplish tonight, but she’s not too disappointed anyway.

They play a song she’s familiar with and she starts softly humming to the music. It’s like a calling, whenever the notes start to make up a melody, and she knows she needs to sing along. Fill up the empty spaces between each note with a music she carries in her own soul.

She’s content to be singing and sipping on her drink, the band encouraging her and somewhere along, a microphone is passed to her as she integrates into the performance. 

It only takes a minute of her belting out tunes, for the crowd to notice that she’s got a good voice. There are a few glasses of champagne sent her way, to which she accepts graciously, blushing slightly each time. By the time she gets to her third song and her sixth drink, she’s deliciously buzzed, the heat of the alcohol humming over her skin like it’s been electrified.

The band takes a break after their set, so she goes back to her little corner at the bar and makes some small talk with the staff. One of them makes a joke and she tilts her head back and lets out a blithe laughter, the sound light and melodious.

“What’s so funny?” The laughter dies in her throat when she notices a well groomed gentleman slide into the seat next to hers. She takes him in, his three piece suit perfectly tailored to every line of his body, his sandy blonde hair slicked back and the chiselled angle of his chin a perfect compliment to the pointed tip of his nose.

A beat passes before she realises she’s staring and he’s just looking at her, amused.

“Oh, Noel here is a real comedian. If you’re ever bored of the girls or the booze, you should talk to him.” Elizabeth compliments the bartender who tips an imaginary hat in her direction, making her let out a grin.

“No offense to Noel, but I think I just found something else that’s piqued my interest.” He looks right at her, before sliding his drink across the counter and clinking her glass.

“I’m Shawn. You are?” Elizabeth returns the clink with one of her own.

“B-Joan. I’m Joan.” She brings the bourbon to her lips and takes a generous sip.

“You sing well. And I’ve seen you dance too. What’s a girl like you doing here alone?” He pulls himself closer to her, effectively wrapping his legs around her chair and she twirls a strand of her hair around her fingers absentmindedly.

“I’m..I’m new. So I don’t keep regular company.” Here it goes, she thinks to herself. Turns out, she might land someone profitable tonight after all. She mentally winces at that thought. Shawn hums, but stays silent. 

“So Shawn...what brings you here?” She makes the necessary small talk, not entirely sure what his intentions are.

“Business. Surprisingly, a shit ton of business goes down here. Not sure if it’s the dancing or the company, but people are more...compliant here you know?” She lets out a small chuckle at that, before going back to nursing her bourbon.

“I’m a lawyer.” He states, and Beth tries to find something to say in response but her mind turns up empty. Her palms are sweaty now and she thinks of the way Monica always has something to say, to keep her patrons happy, some sort of frivolous quip or fact that makes the men laugh boisterously and god how she wishes she’d had some of that talent as well. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Shawn registers the way Beth recoils at his suggestion.

“I’m sorry, that’s way too forthcoming.” He salvages the situation by placing his palm on her arm, an apology of sorts.

“No..no. I just...I haven’t done this before. Like I said...I’m new. Sorry...” She blushes, completely embarrassed by how _green_ she sounds, but Shawn simply waves it off.

“No apologies needed. My mum would be ashamed of my behaviour.” He looks a little sheepish now and Beth laughs at how young he seems in the moment.

“Let me take you out then. There’s a party Friday night.” She nods at that suggestion.

“I’m dancing though, so maybe after? I’ll be done by midnight usually.” It’s his turn to agree now, slipping a little card with his name on it into her palm.

“That’s when the party really starts anyway. See you around, Joan.” He leaves her one last smirk before spinning around in his seat and making his way back to the booth he came from.

_Shawn Eillis_

_Managing Partner_

_Becker & Eillis LLP _

God damn it, he isn’t just a lawyer. He owns the damn firm.

-

Between Annie’s whining of being nauseous, but eating up four full grown human’s worth of food and Greg staying over, Beth’s glad when Friday finally rolls around, the promise of being whisked away to a party where she doesn’t have to be Elizabeth and can finally be Joan is a compelling thought.

Brad’s been a complete darling. First squealing over the fact that _the Shawn Eillis_ was taking her to a party and then helping her with putting together an outfit on loan from the club. Beth definitely wasn’t about to shell out money to buy a new outfit and the ones in her wardrobe are too...they’re more Beth than Joan. 

By the time she’s made it to the club, she’s in a good mood. Great mood actually, there’s a spring in her step and a hum in her throat.

“You avoidin’ me, Elizabeth?” The low drawl she recognizes anywhere stops her in her tracks. She’d just made it through the font doors of the club, which fortunately, is still empty.

She looks at him, dressed more formal than she’d expected, a maroon button up matched with black slacks and a matching blazer jacket. Beth wets her lips, she’d never seen him so dressed up before and he looks...he looks handsome as always.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Someone to be with?” The memory of Sophia around his arms still stings, so she’s snarkier than she should be, considering how much she’s missed being around him.

He chuckles darkly, fingers playing with the glass of clear liquid, which she’d learnt is mezcal, not vodka, which she had initially assumed. 

“Always assumin’. I told you she’s just work.” She tries to walk away from him and into the back, but he stops her, fingers clasped around her arm. It’s firm, but it doesn’t hurt her and she doesn’t want to resist.

“Well, it sure looks like more than just work. Besides, what are we? We never talked about it, never labelled it, so I guess I could just be work too.” She spits out. She thinks of all the moments they’ve had together, his lips on hers, the way he’d taught her how to deal with Natalie, the way he’d helped her do so. Then he thinks of his lips on Sophia’s, his fingers splayed across her skin, caramel on caramel, and she burns the colour of green.

She can see he’s frustrated with her, annoyed, angry. His jaw twitches with the words he doesn’t speak and even like this, she finds that he’s beautiful and that she wants him in a way that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to. The fire that burns simmers into something else, like hot coals that have been put out, smoke streaming from the white ashes. It’s bitter on the tongue and she tastes the ghost of his lips on hers, the immense longing for something unreachable, hidden behind his unyielding walls.

She sighs, then reaches up to place her fingers around his hands. With the last of her resolve, she carefully uncurls every single digit and then walks away. 

-

“Here put this on.” She reaches out gingerly for the mask in Shawn’s hand as they zip through the streets of Detroit. After that encounter with Rio and then having to shake her ass to some upbeat song for most of the night, she’s beginning to think that agreeing to come to this party with a man she barely knows is a bad idea. She thinks of going home to Annie, about laying her sore body on her bed and sleeping till tomorrow afternoon, but she can already feel the thoughts of Rio bleeding into spaces between those scenarios. She needs a distraction, and this party is a good one. Hopefully there’ll be enough alcohol and debauchery to keep her thoughts away from a certain criminal mastermind.

Beth puts on the shimmery gold mask and Shawn smirks back at her. He’s wearing a plain blue one of his own. It matches his suit, a navy number that’s well fitted as always. He takes her hand as the car pulls up at an old warehouse. She’s confused, expected to have been brought to a fancy nightclub, but lets him pull her along anyway.

The warehouse is dimly lit and no one stops them as they push open the metal doors and enter the empty space. They’re silent as he reaches for the elevator and pushes in a passcode on the keypad which makes the metal box whirr to life. Once the doors open, she realises that everything she’d ever thought of to be luxurious, exclusive and over the top? Well this place’s about to redefine all her expectations.

Shawn doesn’t let go of her hand as they make their way through the crowd. He stops to exchange pleasantries with a few people he recognizes even through the mask and she feels like they're in some kind of warped waltz on the dance floor. He leads, she follows. Until they reach a booth that’s clearly been reserved for him.

He introduces her to a few of his friends who are already seated, each of them with at least one girl wrapped around their arms. She flashes them her trademark ditzy smile and reminds herself that here, with him, she’s not Elizabeth, so she tucks that part of her away into the depths of her being and focuses on being Joan.

Shawn’s hands are low on her back, just above the curve of her ass and it’s presence is distracting. Like having an itch you can’t scratch. They’ve consumed a copious amount of expensive champagne and the table topics are getting more raunchy. She’s just about to excuse herself to the washroom when one of the men at the table pulls out a small pill box from his breast pocket and the girls around him burst into excited giggles, clapping their hands as if they are children and he’s just procured the world’s most interesting toy.

Her eyes widen as he passes the pill box around and the girls swallow one each, their eyes taking on a glassy sheen after, their demeanor a little more clumsy than previously.

The box is offered to her, but she politely rejects, to which it earns a few disapproving glances from the men at the table. 

  
“Relax Joan, have some fun.” Shawn coos in her ears as he takes the pill box into his own hands, shaking it in front of her. The metal box clinks noisily even though the music attempts to drown it out. Beth shakes her head. Hanging out with a rich guy for money is one thing. Having sex with a rich guy for money is another thing. But taking drugs? That’s crossing a line Beth didn’t know she’d drawn up before this.

Her resistance is met with intrigued stares now. The men taking her refusal as a challenge. One of them drops a stack of cash on the table and Beth can feel her eyes growing wide. 

_It’s not worth it._ She tells herself, although her eyes never leave the money. She shakes her head still, her nose pointed upwards, her back straight and her arms crossed in front of her.

Shawn’s playing the game now, as he takes in her demeanor. Prim and proper. It seems like the harder you are, the more fun it is when people break you. He reaches into his jacket pocket and produces another wad of cash. This time twice as thick as the one already set on the table. He slaps it on top of that with a loud _thwack_ as Elizabeth just stares at it.

She mentally calculates the number of gynae visits this would cover. The tins of milk powder she could buy, the months of rent it would pay and her determination begins to waver. It’s just one pill right? She devises a plan that could potentially give her the money, while allowing her to keep her dignity. She could pretend to swallow it then spit it out in the restroom later. Right?

They can tell she’s about to give in. So the last man at the table takes out a stack of notes himself and adds it to the growing pile. They’re leaning forward now. All of them, hands clasped in front of them as if they’re watching some sort of cliffhanger being played out, eager to know the outcome, confident they’ll be able to sway it to their side.

Shawn runs a finger along her arm and a flash of goosebumps appear. “C’mon now Joan, you’ve been such a good girl…” his voice is soft and luscious, but as tempting as it sounds, she’s drawn only to the magnetic pull of the stack of green from the table. Imperceptibly, she nods and the faces of the men at the table stretch out into wide grins. They pat each other on the back and exchange some high fives, as if they’ve won some kind of gameshow and she’s the prize.

Squeezing her thumb and index finger together, she daintily takes one of the unassuming white pills and pops it into her mouth. Shawn grins at her. She pretends to swallow, trying to cheek the pill until she can dispose of it, but then his mouth is on hers and in a moment of panic, the pill slips down her throat and all she can feel is a rising sense of terror.

She tries to stop it. Tries to stop her heart from racing, and tries to stop the air around from filling with a false sense of excitement she knows is manufactured by drug use. But she can’t. The girls are hopped up on it by now, they’re gyrating in the laps of the men, moaning and gasping uninhibitedly. She bites her lip and uses her last bit of self control to push Shawn away and mumbles something about using the ladies room. She needs to wait it out. Needs to be alone as the drug takes control of her body. 

The club feels twice as big now, and her sense of direction isn’t working. She finds herself giggling headily even though there’s nothing funny happening around her. Things seem to be happening in slow motion, she can see the crinkle on a woman’s face before it morphs into delight, can see the little beads of perspiration right at the hairline of a handsome face. Everything is simultaneously boring and heart palpitatingly exciting and she can’t seem to focus.

She closes the door behind her, sliding down to the floor with her back against the wall. This is one of the fanciest bathrooms she’s ever been in, every room well furnished and perfectly clean, so clean that she doesn’t mind being bare assed on the wooden floor. She reaches for the bowl, tries to throw up, but all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem as important anymore. The slightly numb feeling at the tip of her fingers makes her hyper aware of the sensations around her. The roughness of the sequins on her dress and the softness of her skin beneath it.

She abandons the thought of forcing herself to vomit, instead she slumps back against the wall and runs her fingers on every surface she can imagine. The silky locks of her hair that feels weird...because how can your fingers make out the sensation of a thousand strands of hair at once? She can barely comprehend it. Her face distorting in displeasure, then cooing with surprise when her fingertips make their way along her neck. Now she’s distracted by the way her fingers feel along then sensitive skin there. She’s humming when suddenly the door opens and she’s barely even taken aback.

“Elizabeth…” The growl definitely reeks of displeasure, but still the deep purr of it sends shockwaves down her skin and she finds herself panting while looking at him. He’s wearing a mask too, but it’s a bad disguise. She’ll be able to recognize him even if he were disfigured in a fire, having already memorised the way the sinews of his muscles flex when he moves and the way he smells even when he isn’t wearing any cologne. The same way he probably picked her out in a room full of people, followed her here through the crowd.

She looks at him, her eyes wide with pleasure and her heart beating so loudly, she’s sure he would have heard it from where he stands. But she’s distracted, her skin desperate to feel the thousand different forms of pleasure. Her fingers continue to run their little circles on her neck and she lets out a soft moan. He’s right in front of her now, crouched down with his elbows on his knees, examining her with an almost feral look on his face. 

Elizabeth knows that he clocks her dilated pupils and the way her eyes glass over. She knows he sees pass her outer shell and right into her core every single time, but right here, in this moment, all she wants to know is if his skin feels the same on her fingertips. And whether his fingertips would feel the same on her skin.

She’s not sure if it’s the drug, or the way she can feel his hot breath fanning out on her skin, but she aches for more. She wants to feel the thousand ways he can pleasure her, wants to know how he feels when everything she’s experiencing right now is magnified by a thousand times.

“Touch me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew...that was a chapter alright. Hope it was pleasant to read and that everything made sense! I wish that the both of them would just sit down and talk, but right now, Beth's way too focussed on trying to solve the various problems in her life to deal with something as superficial as her own feelings. And well...Rio's just being Rio. Will there be an AU where Rio stops baiting Beth to open herself up to him and starts taking the first step?
> 
> I dunno. 
> 
> Leave me all the love! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio and Beth play twenty questions, and turns out, despite always turning up to save her, he doesn't have a hero complex.

The first thing he notices about Elizabeth, besides the fact that she’s super well endowed, is that her eyes are bright blue and shining with an energy that captivates him. Later, when he gets to peel back her layers, he realises that that energy that drew him in? It’s 90% stubbornness and about 10% a dumb lack of self preservation. 

It’s the exact same energy that has led her here. Sitting bare bottomed on a bathroom floor in the middle of a secret club for Detroit’s criminal elites. She’s breathing so hard, he’s wondering if she was doing some cardio prior to him finding her, but then he notices her pupils are dilated so wide, the blues of her eyes are almost swallowed whole. She’s also weirdly focussed on the weirdest things, like how her hair feels on her fingers.

Then he realises. She’s high. He bites back a growl, whether it’s because she’s grossly incapable of taking care of herself, or because he had failed to take care of her, he doesn’t know. He only knows that he’s furious right now and he wants to yank her up on her feet to take her home, but then she asks him to...touch her?

And god he wants to. So badly, the way her chest rises and falls in that dress is obscene, and her flushed cheeks and swollen lips are like a siren song calling his name.

But he can’t. 

“Not like this.” He groans out, physically pained by having to reject her, hoping she’s too far gone to register the sting of rejection nor notice how much it hurts him to refuse her too.

Elizabeth pouts, her cherry red lips plumping up when she purses them. He raises his hand to her cheek, stroking it gently and feels his heart gnaw when she nurses her flushed burning face against his equally warm palm.

She raises her chin to stare at him through her lashes and he sees her lips wobble, as if she’s about to cry and he panics slightly, unaccustomed to her being this vulnerable. Leaning forward, he captures her lips in his and sucks on them gently, preventing her from pouting further. And god, she’s so soft, plump, moist and delicious. He can taste champagne and a slight honeyed sweetness from her chapstick and he moans involuntarily.

“You don’t know how much I want you Elizabeth. But not now, not like this.” He breaks away from her and steadies himself, his mind still cloudy from the kiss they shared, his jeans suddenly too tight. He’s gentle with her, never letting his fingers part from her skin as he draws circles on her arm.

“What happened?” He’s not sure he can get anything out from her right now, but he tries anyway, watching as her attention flits from place to place, her eyes unable to focus on anything for more than a second. 

She considers him for a brief moment, before her expression turns into one of shock and disbelief, her mouth hanging agape as she leaps to her feet.

“My money!” She does this little  _ grabby grabby _ action with her hands that makes him want to laugh, if not for the fact that she’s bolting for the bathroom door on her unsteady feet. All he does is follow her. Right now, he’s certain he’d follow her anywhere.

She bursts out of the bathroom and back into the chaos of the club, the music, lights and sheer amount of people attacking her senses and she stumbles a little. So he places his arms on her hip to steady her and watches as his gesture gives her more confidence. 

He quirks a brow when she marches up to the booth where Eillis sits and immediately grabs the stack of cash they have lying on the table. Nodding towards Shawn, he hangs back as he watches Elizabeth wrestle with the money, thickness of the pile too much for her tiny hands.

“I was starting to get worried about you, Joan. Rio, thanks for bringing her back.” He doesn’t respond, simply watches in amusement as Elizabeth huffs and fumbles with the money. 

Then, Shawn has the gall to place his hand on the swell of her ass and a switch in him flips. He makes the connection between the cash and Elizabeth’s dazed look, the same look the rest of the girls in the booth are wearing on their faces and he has to fight the urge to punch that smug look off Shawn’s face.

He did this. Men who treat women like sport, like toys and entertainment. Men like him don’t deserve to feel the softness of a woman’s body beneath them. Rio’s done many terrible things, hell, there are a few heads and fingers in the Detroit river that has his full name written on them, but women and children? He draws the line there.

Elizabeth’s gotten all the money cradled in her arms now and Shawn’s tugging on the hem of her dress, beckoning her back to his side on the sofa. 

“Let go, Eillis.” The words come out in a growl and he watches the expression on Shawn’s face change from a playful one into something more serious, something darker.

“They said you had a thing for this one Rio, but I didn’t believe the rumours. Turns out it’s true.” Shawn teases, his filthy hands running along the creamy skin of Elizabeth’s thigh, while she stands frozen between the two men.

Rio’s hand itches to reach out for his gun that’s tucked into the back of his waistband. But Eilis isn’t just some street thug he can shoot and forget about. So instead, he gives Elizabeth a reassuring nod and settles into the booth seat next to her, a smirk on his face.

“Not gonna offer me a drink?” He asks, as one of the men from the other side of the booth scrambles to get him a cup. Swiping on his phone, he shoots out a quick text.

_ Come control your rabid dog. _

The tension is thick in the air, and it seems to help Elizabeth clear her head slightly. Even though it’s still difficult to focus and things always seem to have a touch of hilarity to it, she knows something is brewing between Shawn and Rio. It irks her though, that despite the fact that Shawn is obviously displeased by his presence, Rio is the picture of perfect ease. His legs are crossed and he’s sipping on his drink. She can’t take his eyes off him though, she’s noticing everything now with the drug in her system. The perfect curve and pointed tip of the eagle’s wing on his neck. The scruff on his jaw that she wants to reach out and feel. His scent overwhelming her. Even though it’s Shawn’s hand on her thigh right now, all she feels is the sear of his lips on hers from back in the bathroom. 

There’s small talk about stock prices and interest rates going around the table, but she can hear the unspoken question loud and clear.

_ What the fuck is he still doing here? _

Another few minutes of the awkward tension continues and Beth has half the mind to feign unconsciousness so she doesn’t have to sit through another moment of this. Then, a woman walks up to the booth and Rio’s smirk turns into a full on snicker. 

“Gretchen.” Rio greets the woman, who scowls at him. But it’s really Shawn’s reaction that shocks Beth. Upon seeing her, he retracts his hand from her thigh immediately and sits a little straighter, like a student in the presence of the headmaster.

“Shawn. I didn’t know you frequented these places.” Gretchen barely gives him a second look, her perfectly pointed nose upturned in disdain. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here, Gretch. Just doing some business.” His voice is shaky, almost as if he’s frightened of this fairly petite woman in front of him, and Elizabeth wants to laugh. The other guys in the booth are even worse, almost retracting into a corner as they chase the girls off onto the dancefloor.

“I didn’t intend to be here. I was summoned, on the premise that my disciple doesn’t know how to behave in public.” She’s staring at him now, her look full of disdain and disgust as she places her expensive handbag on Rio’s lap. 

“I...I…” 

“You were just leaving. Alone. Right?” Gretchen suggests, before taking a sip out of Rio’s cup and then taking her handbag back into her hands.

“Yes.” Shawn replies, sounding like a scorned puppy and Elizabeth breaks into a slight giggle.

Gretchen turns to leave the booth as well, before stopping when Rio calls out for her.

“Tennis Tuesday right?” He drawls out, the tone is soft and disarming, almost as if he’s thanking her for making the trip down tonight.

“Wouldn’t miss it. Don’t be late.” She replies, before stepping out of view, Shawn following behind her.

The booth empties out and it’s just him and her now. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across her cheek as he curls a strand of hair out of her face.

“Feelin’ better?” Rio asks as he nudges a glass of water towards her. Beth realises she’s still holding the stack of cash in her arms awkwardly, so she places them on the seat next to her and sips at the glass while nodding sheepishly.

He whips out his phone again, then a few moments later, Mick appears with a black duffle bag which he throws at her feet. It’s too much space for the small amount of cash she has, but she’s still thankful she doesn’t have to walk out of the club cradling it in her arms. 

As soon as they enter his car, Mick takes his leave. Beth hears the roar of the engine and she’s relieved that they are finally leaving the club. The night already feels way too long, filled with this much drama. 

They drive in silence for most of the part and it’s nice. She realises he’s not big on talking while he navigates the roads. Beth focuses on trying to stabilize her mental state, thankful that the residual effects of the drugs have more or less left her system. She remembers learning from somewhere that drugs in pill form mostly only offer an hour to an hour and a half of high. She’s lucky she only took one. 

When they pull over at her house, she’s surprised he remembers where she stays. There’s a moment where she’s undecided if she wants to stay inside the car with him, or if she should leave before things get complicated again, but then she realises he’s leaning against his side of the door, body angled towards her and watching her like a cat watching its prey.

“Thanks for taking me home...and for just now…” For the amount of bravado she’d shown the entire night, she doesn’t feel very brave now, twiddling her thumbs like a fool in the passenger seat, unable to even look him in the eye.

“What are we doing, Elizabeth?” He puts the question out there, not really searching for an answer, and not really knowing what the answer is. It hangs in the air, heavy and it bleeds into her skin, making her feel weighed down and tired. Hadn’t she been wondering about this the entire time as well? Trying to keep her mind off this million dollar question, willing herself to think of anything but this  _ thing _ between them.

_ Feels right. _ He’d told her once when she asked him the question. Now it feels foreign hearing the words leave his lips. She shrugs, an honest reaction to a question she doesn’t have an answer to. For weeks, she’s been trying to push thoughts of him, of them, of this  _ thing _ to the corners of her mind and focussing on the things she told herself really mattered. Annie, the baby and money. But now that he’s right here, it’s difficult to continue pretending that she doesn’t care.

“Let’s play twenty questions yeah?” Her ears perk up at his suggestion, the thought of gaining more insight into his life an intriguing proposition and she nods earnestly. 

“You start.” He dictates. And even though she has a million questions to ask, she can’t seem to pick one when he offers her the opportunity.

“Umm...do you have siblings? How big is your family?” It’s an inconsequential question. She knows, but she also does want to know what he’s like around family, if he has one. Most of the time, she thinks he was born fully grown, five o’clock shadow and all. Can’t imagine a time where he was just a kid, full of pubescent joy and innocence. Can't imagine him relaxing in the company of people he loves and cares for. Sometimes wondering if it's the same way he lets down his walls sometimes when he's around her. 

"That's two questions, Elizabeth." He mumbles, and she knows he's deflecting. Knows he's contemplating whether to answer her honestly or to let out some half truth that she most probably has to settle with. 

"I have two sisters, both older. My ma lives in Canada." There's a pause, she can see him clenching his jaw. 

"And I have a son." The revelation throws Elizabeth off kilter and she reels in the knowledge that he's a father. He has a  _ son.  _ Is he married? How old is his son? Is Sophia the mother? 

He can see she's taken aback by this information. Her bright blue eyes racing across the dashboard as if processing a myriad of possibilities at once. He wants to reassure her, tell her that Marcus' mum is no longer a part of their lives. Wants to tell her that there hasn't been someone like her for him in a very long time. But instead, he's quiet, waiting for her to make the next move. 

"Your turn." It comes out soft, as if she's disappointed, but really, Elizabeth's just trying to keep her heart from falling apart. Even though she's convinced herself that she's kept it safe, hadn't flung it into his hands willingly, she feels it breaking all the same. Crushed under the merciless admission that he's created a whole life with someone else, and he never thought of telling her before letting her fall head first into this  _ thing _ with him. 

"What were you doing tonight?" And there it is. She'd expected the question to come out some time during the twenty, but for it to be his first question? She thinks he's truly concerned for her well being. But then she thinks of the fact that he has a son. And possibly an entire life she doesn't know about. And she flinches slightly. 

"Shawn invited me to a party. Then he and his friends offered me money to swallow a pill. So I did." She ends the answer off with a nonchalant shrug but she can feel him glaring at her even though she's not looking at him directly. 

"All that for money?" She grits her teeth at the accusation. She's already judged herself enough ever since she stepped into the club. And she doesn't really need more from him right now. 

“It’s not your turn,  _ Rio.”  _ She unscrews the bottle of water he’d given her and takes a sip from him, feels it lubricating her dry throat, then leans her head back and asks the question she really wants the answer to.

“Where’s your wife?” Rio shifts in his seat slightly, before shifting his gaze away from her and looking out towards the distance instead.

“I don’t have a wife.” Elizabeth quirks a brow.

“She’s Marcus’ ma, but she ain’t my wife. I’m not a cheater, Elizabeth.” She lets out a breath and allows the relief to spread through her body. She wants to know more. Wants to know what he means by that and wants to know the entire story about how his son came to be and how he could let the mother of his child go, but it’s not her turn, so she sits still, sits silently and waits for him to ask the next question. 

“So, what’s with you and money huh, thought the dancing gotchu covered?” She sighs again. Burrows her hands into the sleeves of his jacket that she’s got wrapped around her, the soft material keeping her warm, along with the heat that’s coming out of the vents in the car. But she’s still shaking as she answers him.

“Don’t you ever feel like life’s out to get you?” He doesn’t respond, just looks at her patiently, waiting for her to carry on.

“I mean, I do everything I can to make sure I can pay all the bills. And then the job at the club lets me breathe a little. But suddenly, my little sister is pregnant and it just feels like whatever hole I’ve managed to patch up has just expanded exponentially, the water is rushing in and it just...it just always feels like I’m drowning.” By the time she’s done, she’s got her arms wrapped around herself and he’s watching her with a look in his eyes that she can’t decipher.

“I can help you, you know.” He offers, and she knew he would. A man as powerful as him, with as much money, surely he'll be able to throw some sort of pity cash at her and solve all his problems. Maybe even feed his ego at the same time. Even though she doesn’t think that he’s that kind of person, she doesn’t want to just be a Joan to him as well. Doesn’t just want to hang on his arm and take his money. Doesn’t want that kind of relationship with him. 

“No. I don’t want that.” He’s not shocked at her response and the smirk on his face tells her that she probably expected that from her, so she rolls her eyes.

“I don’t mean giving you money. You could always ask me for a loan.” She considers it, then thinks about how she would want to do it fairly, would want to pay him interest. Then considers the fact that she might take years to pay him back what she would need to borrow. She bites her lip. Then an idea strikes her. 

“I want to work for you.” It’s his turn to quirk his brow now, considering her with an amusement written clearly on his face. 

  
“You do know what I do right? Darlin’?” She’s quick to nod her head, then suddenly she realises that apart from the fact that she saw someone being killed under his orders, she doesn’t really know what he does. A flash of red burns in her memory and she remembers how blood had pooled on the concrete floor that night and she pales visibly. 

“What  _ do  _ you do?” She asks now, realising that it couldn’t be more apt considering it’s her turn in their game of twenty questions. 

“Funny money, pharmaceuticals, art, the occasional insider trading.” He cracks a smile at the last one, it’s such a white collar crime that it always tickles him slightly. 

“Pharmaceuticals...you mean drugs right?” She questions him further, even though she knows it’s not her turn to ask more questions. But he humours her, because he clarifies anyway.

“Some...not the hardcore stuff. That market’s way too complicated for my liking. Besides, the demand for the normal stuff’s much higher, more lucrative.” She’s confused. What’s considered  _ normal _ in the drug trade? What Shawn gave her tonight? Would that be considered... _ normal _ ?

“Beta-blockers, dick pills, chronic illness stuff that gets people hooked on it, but without insurance, they can’t afford to get them over at the hospital, so they get them from us.” He clarifies again and she thinks he’s being generous with his sharing tonight.

“Oh…” She didn’t expect that, had thought he’d be dealing cocaine or ecstasy or whatever it is people are snorting and popping these days.

  
“Well, I want to work for you.” She straightens her spine and offers again. As long as he doesn’t traffic humans, weapons or coke, she guesses she could live with the guilt of committing certain crimes.

“Who says I want to hire you?” He’s enamoured by her. She’s got this energy that just seems to radiate off her whenever she steels her spine. Admires how she’s bent over backwards by life but never seems to break. Rio doesn’t even realise it, but he’s already leaning across the console between them, his elbow propped up on the arm rest and resting his chin in the flesh of his palm just...enthralled by her.

“Well, I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse. I can drop off cash for you whenever it’s needed...and deliver pills, sort out stuff at your warehouse. I’m very crafty. I’m good with my hands.” She starts to put together a pitch, convince him that she’d be good for the business and he’s just looking at the way her blue eyes are sparkling with excitement and confidence, her cheeks rosy from the adrenaline.

“I...I can also...the students at the school. They’re crazy rich and they have these poker nights or casino nights, I’m not sure, but that’d be a way for you to wash your cash right?” She offers again, certain that this would intrigue him in some way.

“Oh yeah? And how much do you want from all that work you’re doing?” She seems to be nonplussed by his offer, because for a moment she doesn’t speak, her mouth hanging open slightly and her eyes wide and blinking. 

“I’d have to think about it. But for a start, 10% of what you’re making would be great.” He laughs at that. He makes about a million dollars a week across all his businesses and there’s no way he’s giving her a hundred grand just to move some pills and cash.

“Right right...and how much do you think I make in a month?” She doesn’t answer. The look on her face is one of embarrassment and indignance, but she doesn’t back away. He fucking loves that. Loves that she has the balls to ask for the moon and stars, and that she doesn’t just turn around and run away when she’s told she’s wrong.

“Ok...maybe that was a bad deal. But when I manage to find a way to move your pills or wash your cash, I’d want to keep twenty percent of whatever amount I manage to earn.” He notices she uses the word  _ when  _ and not  _ if  _ while talking about finding a way to clean his money, and again, he’s stirred by her resolve and ambition.

“A’ight then. You got a deal.” She doesn’t notice when he’d gotten so close to her, but she’d been leaning forward in her seat as their negotiation progressed and now their lips are just inches apart and she’s feeling triumphant from the successful way she’d wriggled into working for him, so she gently purses her lips and grazes his.

“Wanna seal it with a kiss?” She answers him by surging forward and capturing his lips in hers. His hands snake up the side of her head and he grabs some of her hair in his gently, coaxing her nearer to him.

She’s missed this. Missed him. It’s been easy pushing him out of her mind with everything that’s happened with Annie and Shawn, but now that she tastes his lips on her again, she wants him. All of him. Not this bullshit middle ground where they exchange glances during her dance and fuck a few times before ignoring each other for weeks. She wants to know who he is after he takes off his clothes and gets into bed. Wants to know who he is under his uniform of black and the shield of his gold pistol.

So she tries to tell him that with her body and her actions. She reaches across the console and places a palm on his thighs, and he groans when her fingers brush against his erection. She wants to unbutton his jeans, but he’s kissing her neck now and she’s too distracted by the feeling of his lips against her and the roughness of his stubble against her skin.

“Rio…” she whines out, desperate for more than just a make out session. He lets out a chuckle, low and dark.

“Thought we were playing twenty questions Ma.” He teases her as his fingers trace the neckline of her dress and dips under the seam to caress the milky white skin there. He releases her hair and moves it to her waist, and even though the angle is wrong, his grip is tight and unwavering against her and suddenly, she remembers the same way he had his arm wrapped around Sophia that night.

“What’s Sophia to you?” She asks him. The timing is off, she’s still breathless from his mouth buried in the crook of her neck, but they are playing twenty questions and if she doesn’t ask now, she has an inkling they’d go back to the same twisted place they were in before.

“What’s Shawn to you?” He asks her through the kisses he’s peppering on her collarbone, his voice tight and rough, coming out like a growl.

“He’s a means to an end. I did get my money tonight didn’t I?” She answers, even though he hasn’t responded to her question yet. She doesn’t tell him she was prepared to sleep with him if that meant she would have enough to provide for Annie. His lips leave her skin and she lets out a whine as he looks her in the eye. The look is dark and solemn, burning with what she thinks is...jealousy.

“You’re jealous of Shawn? Really? And yet you keep brushing me off about Sophia?” Their make out session has come to a complete stop now, she’s leaning against the door of the car again, putting as much distance as she can between them.

“Sophia’s just work. I told you that.” 

“And I told you that it didn’t look like it’s work!” She throws back at him, hating the way she sounds like an obsessed, jealous girlfriend, but she wants answers and she wants them tonight.

“Her father was my mentor when I started out. I owe him. Doesn’t hurt to be nice to her.” He mirrors her position, and suddenly she feels like they’re back in high school, a couple in a tiff.

She doesn’t know how to respond to his honesty, except that her shoulders slump and her resolve breaks. The anger in her belly dissipating as quickly as it had risen. Despite how powerful he is, there’s still people he has to be mindful of, people he has to show respect to. And like her, sometimes he has to do things he doesn’t want to do. So even though she doesn’t like Sophia, doesn’t like the hold she has over him, she understands it.

“I needed money. Shawn showed interest and Elaine said that...they aren’t always bad…It’s just a job to me.” Her voice is small, but she feels even smaller right now, admitting this to him. To her surprise, he slides forward and reaches across the console to lift her chin up with a single finger so she can’t avoid looking him in the eye. She fights it though, knowing that if she sees pity or worse, disgust in those stormy black orbs, she’ll break and cry.

“Hey...look at me…” His voice is gentle now, and it’s somehow worse than when he was growling at her or yelling at her, because now she feels like she’s thirteen again, caught for driving her mother’s car so she can go grocery shopping and then crashing it into the neighbour’s trash can.

She bites her lip and shakes her head stubbornly, but then he’s crouching towards her and lowering his head till he can look into her eyes.

“Elizabeth...you did what you did to provide for your family. There’s no shame in that.” And then she cries, feels the tears drip from her cheeks and decorate the fabric of her dress. He swipes them away with his thumb and takes one of her hands in his as they sit there for a moment in silence.

“I like you, you know? Despite everything, the shooting, Sophia...the illegal stuff you do. I can’t get you out of my mind.” She admits, after she stops crying. It’s silent as her words linger in the air, the only sound is the humming of the car engine and the soft wooshing of the air coming through the vents.

She’s just about to give up and exit the car when he stops her, his hands warm in her own and it feels so big against her small ones, the caramel skin stark against her milky white. They’re so different, yet it feels so right. 

“I like you too. Why’d you think I always turn up to save you huh? I ain’t got some hero complex you know.” He runs his knuckle along the bridge of her nose and she wrinkles it out of reflex, making him chuckle.

And then she laughs too, the sound bright against his deep one. Two people singing different notes, but coming together to form a harmony. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOO. I love that stupid game of 20 questions they played in the show, so I had to have them play in this AU as well. I hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> Your comments and love keep me going! Sorry I've been slow to update, but I'm always working on this! As always, I love hearing what you have to say!


	8. Chapter 8

The first time she walks into one of Rio’s warehouses, it's like stepping into another dimension. The machines hummed and employees milled around like bees in a hive, each dedicated to their own task and working at top speed. In the middle of it all, he stood orchestrating, his sleeves rolled up his arms, exposing sinewy forearms. For a moment, her eyes were glued on him, just observing, wondering how big his empire actually was and how much money he actually made. The total control he commanded in the large warehouse was mesmerizing and she found herself imagining what it would be like to hold that kind of power. 

Being in the middle of it all though, was slightly different. Despite allowing her to work for him, she wasn’t given much to do, and neither was her remuneration properly discussed. All she knew was that she never turned up in the same warehouse more than twice a week, and that money - a fair bit of it - was deposited into her account at the end of each month. She helped with the menial tasks, bundling cash into neat stacks and separating pills into their various categories. Twice, she was allowed to make a drop, so she drove her car down to a certain location, met with a stranger and swapped her black duffle bag for his, before driving away silently. Those were her favourite tasks, even though Rio had told her to always keep her eyes open and leave if she was suspicious of anything, she found the adrenaline rush addictive.

But it wasn’t enough for her. She wanted more, to do more, both for him and herself. So she put her plan into motion.

Making small talk with the other girls in school was one of the most painful things Elizabeth had ever done. But she needed to get an invite to the Casino Nights their school was so famed for. She had never shown interest previously, partly because she never had enough for the buy in (twenty grand each time she’d heard) and also because it just wasn’t her kind of scene. But now, between discussions of where to get the best detox juices and which studio had the best spin class, she needed to figure out when these nights happened, who organized it...and find a way in.

“God, I’ve been feeling so bored lately, I’ve started playing poker on an app.” Elizabeth scrolled mindlessly on her phone, twirling a strand in her hair, mimicking the voices of her classmates.

“Ooooh! Are you any good?” Brittany asked, while peering over at Beth’s phone.

“Not too bad. I just wished I had real people to play with, instead of these faceless dudes on the internet. I mean, how will I ever show off my perfect poker face?” Beth put on a stern looking, sending the girls into a fit of giggles.

“You know, I tried playing at the Casino Night in school that one time. God, I lost like fifty grand in a night. My dad almost strangled me.” Elizabeth’s eyes bulged in her eyes. God, these girls are rich.

“Ooh, I’ve never been, but I heard they’re fun. I mean, I could probably win all the boys. They probably are dumber than they look.” Elizabeth shot a look at the bunch of guys in the corner of the room, her eyes zooming in on Mitchell Blake - she suspects he’s the mastermind behind these nights.

“Oh yeah, you should totally come! I mean, you could help me win back some money.” Brittany looped her arms round Beth’s, before pausing for a moment.

“Wait, your name’s Beth right?” She asks before a sheepish look creeps up her face. Granted, Beth had never willingly spent time with these girls before, but the fact that she didn’t even remember her name? That stings.

“Yes, Brittany. Now let me know when the next Casino Night is, and I can help win back your money.” She rolls her eyes, but keys in her phone number in Brittany’s phone anyway. 

First part of her plan? Success.

-

“I’m gonna need to take out a loan of twenty grand.” She asks the next time they are snuggled in his bed, and Rio shoots her a dirty look.

“I just need it for a night. That’s the buy in for the Casino Night at my school.” She explains while he tries to distract her, a long talented finger running gently across the back of her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Nah, that's not how it works darlin'. You want the money? You got to earn it." His tone is languid, and it makes Beth scowl. 

“Fine, you got some new jobs for me?” She props herself up on her elbows, letting the sharp bones there dig into his chest as he winces. 

“Yeah, I do. Want you to sing at the club.” He tries to shift, move her elbows away from his chest, but she doesn’t budge.

“Sing? Don’t your customers usually prefer something more racey?” He shrugs.

“Think we could change things up. Besides, I don’t want you dancin’ there anymore.” She immediately removes her elbows from his chest, straightening her posture.

“What? Why! I need the money Rio.” She retorts and it comes out more like a whine.

“What, I don’t pay you enough to work for me? ‘Sides, don’t want anyone seein’ your skin here…” He runs a finger across the peaks of her chest, eliciting a little groan from her.

“Here….” His finger moves down her abdomen, traces the lines down to the point where her thighs meet her hip.

“And definitely not here.” He slips a finger through her folds and she arches her back, her body taught in anticipation.

“Well, you didn’t have a problem with it before…” She gasps out as he continues to tease her, his fingers moving lazily.

“Yeah well, now you’re mine.” His lips press against hers and immediately the thought of money, of responsibilities and schemes, they vaporize in her mind. _You’re mine_. The two words negate the negative caveman attitude he has towards her body and instead morphs into something that reminds her of protectiveness and surrender. 

For such a long time, all she wanted was to gain control over her life, to be able to be her own person and not have to squirm under her landlord’s demeaning gaze or to be possessed by boyfriends just because they thought they could provide for her. But this feels different. Despite the possessiveness that lies under his request for her to stop dancing, she knows it’s not because he wants her to rely on him for money, to be a kept woman. He never does. Makes her work the jobs to get the money and for the first time, instead of suffocation, she feels like it’s a relief to belong to someone else. 

She nods at his words and he feels himself grin into her mouth.

“You’re mine too.” And he kisses her back enthusiastically, his tongue slipping into her mouth to lick at her own.

“I got to go.” She whispers into his lips, although it comes out half hearted.

“Haven’t been home in two days, gotta check on Annie.” He’s pecking her on her lips now, interrupting every word with kisses and it makes her burst out laughing.

Pushing him away, she picks up her clothing from her floor and blushes when she finds her bra hanging off the tv console. 

“I’ll see you soon yeah?” He’s laying in bed, caramel skin covered partially by the covers and all she wants to do is strip down and jump right back into it again. But she pulls on her coat and smiles back at him, nodding her confirmation. 

He gets out of bed, still naked and walks her to the door, enveloping her into another heated kiss before finally letting her go. 

-

Beth’s climbing up the stairs she hears music coming from her apartment. Unlocking it, she sees the place packed with people she doesn’t recognize, Annie and Greg sitting on the couch making out. The lights are off, but someone’s brought in a small disco ball light so there’s about nine different shades of neon lights flashing on her white ceiling.

God, she only leaves for two days and her sister turns their tiny apartment into a club for the underage. Fuming, she reaches for the light switch and flips it on, a bunch of teens turning to stare at her as the lights blind their vision.

“Oh my god, Beth! What are you doing! You’re ruining our party!” Annie shrieks as she shields her eyes from her lights, a scowl on her face.

“All of you, get out of my house right now.” There’s a few complaints, but most of them drop the plastic cups in their hands and shuffle out of the apartment.

“Wait wait wait, don’t go!” Annie tries to placate her guests, but most of them have lost the mood to party anyway, Beth’s glare from the side of the door completely killing the vibe.

Annie sits on the sofa watching the apartment empty out, while Greg sits next to her, fiddling with his fingers, unsure of what to do.

Beth’s fuming. It’s almost two in the morning and there’s a lingering smell of weed in the apartment. Plus, Annie’s pregnant. She shouldn’t be at parties, let alone hosting one.

“What the hell were you thinking?” The anger rolls off her shoulder in waves as she makes her way towards Annie, lashing out at her. There’s no reply from her sister, and that makes her even angrier.

“I guess you weren’t even thinking. You never do. You’re PREGNANT Annie, do you really think it’s a good idea to be hanging out with people who are smoking? God, I hope you didn’t drink any alcohol.” It’s like the floodgates have been unleashed. She hadn’t seen her sister in two days, working her ass off at the club and for Rio, and this is how she’s being repayed. A trashed apartment and a sister who can’t even take care of herself.

Annie’s biting her lip now, her cheeks reddening the same way Beth knows hers is. They are both angry and she knows she should be the mature one, knows she should back down and stop talking so they can both cool down, but she can’t. The words leaving her mouth before she can stop them.

  
“When are you going to start growing up? I can’t be cleaning up your messes all the time! Do you even have any respect for yourself?” She regrets the words almost instantly when she hears them. Beth watches in slow motion as something clicks in Annie and it’s like a grenade going off, her sister’s small frame leaping onto her feet and into her space.

“Respect? You’re going to talk to me about respect?! I’m not the one fucking a gangster and stripping for strangers, not coming home for days! You’re not my mom!” They are both fuming at this point, chest heaving in anger and Greg’s trying to calm Annie down, tugging at her hand and begging her to let this go.

Tears well up in Beth’s eyes before she can stop them. She knew her decisions would come and bite her in the ass one day, but she never expected this from Annie, always thought that of all people, her sister would know and understand why she chose to dance at The Deep End.

“You’re right Annie, who am I to stop you from ruining your own life when I’ve already done enough damage to my own.” She chuckles out. She thinks of the days she’d tried to keep her mum’s mental state under wraps so social services wouldn’t keep her and her sister apart. Thinks of how she’d worked so hard to prove to the system that she could raise Annie without the help of any adult, that they didn’t need to put her sister into a foster home. Beth looks around the house, the red paper cups lining the kitchen counters. She wonders if she didn’t try so hard, would Annie have been in a better place now? With a family that loves her, a bright future ahead, instead of living in this shitty apartment and pregnant when she’s barely an adult herself.

The room is silent, the anger fizzling out, the space in the room replaced with the hurtful words they’d both thrown out. 

“Beth…” Annie starts, but Beth shakes her head to stop her. 

“You’re right. I’m not your mother, heck, our mum was a shit one, so I probably suck at raising you as well. You’re an adult now, you can make whatever decisions you want.” She lifts her head to look at Annie, remorse and guilt evident in her eyes. And she can’t do this right now. It’s not that she doesn’t want to forgive her sister, but there are no hurtful words without festering thoughts. It might have been a fit of anger from Annie, but she knows that deep down, part of her sister does feel that way about her. So instead of reaching out to brush away the tears and smoothing down her hair like she’d done a thousand times through the years, she turns her back to the only family she’s got and walks out of the apartment.

-

It’s particularly cold tonight, the Detroit winters often choosing the weirdest times to take their turn for the worse. Beth pulls her coat tighter around herself as she sits in her car, the tears spilling down her cheeks. She’d done all these to keep her family together, but knowing Annie resents her for it, everything seems like a complete waste of time now.

She doesn’t have a clue as to where she’s going to spend the night, seeing that she’s kicked herself out of the apartment. She itches to call Ruby, but Sarah’s sick and there’s barely enough room in the house for the three of them as it is, they don’t need to burden themselves with her own misery. Besides, she’s too tired to explain why she’s showing up with red rimmed eyes in the middle of the night.

Turning on the engine, she drives around aimlessly until she shows up at Rio’s place, wistfully looking up at the luxurious apartment block and the warm glow radiating from the lighted windows. She doesn’t want to intrude, afterall, it’s barely been a few hours since she left his place, but she craves his touch, wants him to help her forget all the realities of life. So before she even knows it, she’s standing outside his apartment, knuckles knocking on the door.

“Elizabeth?” He’s cracked his door open and the heated air from inside wooshes out towards her, the contrast between the warmth and cold making her shiver slightly. 

She’s opening her mouth to explain why she’s back here, when suddenly there’s a small voice, heavy with sleep and yet still tinged with brightness.

“Daddy? Who’s knockin’?” Before she can answer, a little boy’s face peeks out from the side of his legs, dark curly locks on his head, rosy cheeks and the same caramel skin. His mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape as he looks up at her from his spot, the same mischievous look in his eyes as his father.

He shyly hides his face behind Rio’s thigh when Beth bends down to his level, smiling and letting out a little wave.

“Hi, I’m Beth!” Despite the shyness, his little face peeks out from its hiding spot, a chubby little hand reaching out for Beth’s hair.

“Golden!” Then pointing to her blue eyes, he all but shrieks “blue!” before letting out a few words Beth cannot decipher.

“It’s ‘lizbeth!” He exclaims, before beaming at his father for confirmation. Rio runs his hand through his son’s hair.

“That’s right pop, that’s Elizabeth. You gonna say hi?” Marcus waves tentatively with Rio’s prompting, then returns his hands to his father’s leg, wrapping around it like a koala. Elizabeth’s heart swells at the image. So this is his son. And Rio had told him about her, the boy managing to recognize her from her blonde hair and blue eyes. She feels a warmth spread through her as she thinks of the conversation.

“Chris?” An unfamiliar voice shakes her from her thoughts as Marcus leaves Rio’s side and all but sprints into the house.

“Mommy!!! It’s the princess! ‘Lizbeth!” The door cracks open a fraction wider and Beth can feel her chest spread open with the image. The woman hoists Marcus on to her hip with some effort. Her eyes are big and bright, lips full and her hair cropped stylishly. Beside Rio, the three form the perfect family, effortlessly charming and beautiful.

“Um...sorry for intruding. I’ll...I’ll come back another time.” She suddenly feels out of place, even though she’d been calling this apartment home for the past few days. Like she’s an intruder in the space. And from the way Rio’s standing at the door, not ushering her inside, it’s almost as if he doesn’t want her here. Wants to keep her away from this perfect family he has and she feels the blood rushing to her head, her cheeks burning red. She shouldn't have come here. How foolish of her to think that she could just knock on his door and wrap her around him, the night instantly taking a turn for the better. She doesn't have that kind of luck. Never had and never will. Biting her lip, she backs away from the door, the urge to run away from this place too strong to ignore.

“Elizabeth, wait.” He mutters a few words in spanish towards the house before stepping out into the corridor, his feet still bare, closing the door slightly behind him.

She sniffles a little, can tell that the waterworks are about to begin, and God, she really hates how little control she has over her emotions sometimes. He places a finger on her chin to lift her face so he can take a clearer look, but she shakes her head defiantly, resisting his touch.

“Why you here so late?” He asks, voice laced with concern. But she can tell he’s distracted, giving a glance to the family he has behind the door ever so often. And she's flattered really, that he'd made an effort to check on her even though she knows it'd be better for everyone if he'd just let her go right now. It's painful and cruel of him to prolong this moment, her fragile self esteem barely holding on to its last thread.

“It doesn’t matter now. I was just leaving. Sorry for showing up unannounced.” Beth tries her best to make it sound like she's unaffected even though her voice comes out cracked. Smoothing out her coat, she spins around to leave, but he catches her arm mid stride.

“The heat in their apartment went out, that’s why they’re spending the night here.” He explains, but it doesn’t do anything to stop the ache in her chest from spreading. She has to leave now, or she’ll start to sob, the ache will spread like a disease, from her chest to her head, her arms, leaving her immobile and wrecked. 

“You don’t have to explain it to me. But it’s clear I’m intruding. So I’ll let you get back to it.” She hiccups slightly, the attempt to stop herself from crying failing terribly, while she tries to wriggle her arm out from her grasp. 

He lets out a deep sigh and runs his hand across his face tiredly.

“I’ll be fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.” She forces out a tiny smile and she can feel the ache in her chest widen, a big crevice forming the longer she stays. So she shoves at his hand a little harder, forcing him to release his grip as she makes her way back from where she came from. The sound of him calling her name echoing through the vacant space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw I feel so much for Beth when she's breaking inside, but is still trying to keep herself in front of Rio. The ache in the chest? The way you have to smile just because you know it's the right thing to do in the moment? :( It's happened too many times.
> 
> I've been a little stuck on where I'd like to take this story to, but I've decided to worry less and just go with where my ideas take me! I hope you guys still enjoy reading this :) I missed all your comments and love <3 (and feedback of course!)


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